


Keep Me Deceived

by APolaris



Series: Deceptions Most Dangerous [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Character Death, Cheating, F/M, Forbidden Love, How Do I Tag, I have not read the books, Love Triangles, R Plus L Equals J, Tommen is Eight, bcz im basing this off the series, cersei doesn't really love jaime, does it count as major character death?, i don’t know but like someone dies, its a rarepair crack ship but im going down with it, ned and cersei's other relationships are more background, so dont at me for wrong info
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APolaris/pseuds/APolaris
Summary: In which Ned Stark does have a bastard son, but Jon Snow is not him.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister & Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister & Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Ned Stark, Ned Stark & Robb Stark, Robert Baratheon & Ned Stark, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister, Tommen Baratheon & Cersei Lannister
Series: Deceptions Most Dangerous [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832614
Comments: 115
Kudos: 254





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've only just begun officially watching GoT (I practically know the whole story from spoilers >_<) and I've just finished the first season, but damn me for falling for this ship. Anyways, I guess it goes without saying that this is my first GoT fanfiction.

Queen Cersei Baratheon exits the wheelhouse with graceful steps, walking with dainty steps behind her husband as he greets his old friend, Lord Ned Stark. A tight smile crosses her lips as she looks over the courtyard, her eyes sweeping over everyone, and remaining on the Starks. She observes the five children with calculating eyes as King Robert speaks to each of them. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon, she remembers.

She walks towards Ned and hands him her hand, almost too quickly and with motions too practiced. “My Queen,” he bows and kisses the back of her hand, lips lingering for a breath longer than what is appropriate. Her smile widens with genuine emotion for a moment. She notices him take in a deep breath before standing straight again, and her eyes flicker to Robb, who is watching them discreetly. She turns to Lady Catelyn Stark, who gracefully bows to her with a respectful “My Queen”. Her smile tightens once again, and she struggles to keep it on her face and not frown.

She hears Robert address Ned, already demanding to visit the crypts. She allows the frown onto her face now, calling out to him, “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait”

Robert does not acknowledge her, instead calling again for Ned in a firmer tone and leaving. Ned’s eyes turn to her, they share a look worth a million words and she can already hear the apology he will later give. Oh, poor, noble, honorable Ned, always trying to cover up for his closest friend’s mistakes.

His eyes lower with a mixture of emotions Cersei does not want to explore and he follows behind his king. Cersei watches until they are completely gone from her view before she turns again to the rest of the Starks. She wants to sneer at Lady Stark. She wants to rip the bloody fur cloak with Stark colours off her shoulders. She wants to scream at how unfair everything is. She does none of it. Instead, she takes another observatory look at Robb, who meets her eyes with a firm stare. She forces herself not to cry with joy as she takes in his dark curls and green eyes. And then she allows herself to be lead away by Lady Catelyn Stark.

* * *

She observes, having a spectacular view at the high table, and watches. She sees Ned speak to his younger brother with Robb. Her eyes briefly turn to Robert, who has some lowly, ugly, kitchen maid in his arms. She quickly dismisses the disgusting scene and turns to watch Sansa, who is quickly summoned.

“Is this your first time in the North, your grace?” Lady Stark attempts to engage her in conversation, but Cersei knows she’s only being polite.

“Yes,” she answers, voice cold.

“I’m sure it’s very grim, after King’s Landing. I remember how scared I was when Ned brought me up here for the first time,” Lady Stark says, and Cersei cannot help but bitterly think that Catelyn should never have been the one to be brought to live in Winterfell.

Sansa arrives and Cersei finds a quick escape from speaking to Catelyn Stark any more, “Hello, little dove, but you are a beauty. How old are you?”

She observes the child, carrying her father's name but an almost exact copy to her mother, with her Tully red hair and blue eyes and Tully nose and oh Cersei can’t bear to look any more but she listens as the child shyly speaks, “thirteen, your grace”

She speaks some more with the young lady before dismissing her. Her eyes rove over the feast again as she forces herself to speak to Catylen Stark, and her eyes land again on Robb Stark. She takes in his features as he laughs at his sister’s expense. His eyes connect with hers and his laugh dies down slightly before he notices Lady Stark’s glare and any joy that was in his face completely disappears. Cersei almost wants to threaten Catylen for chasing the smile off his face. She wants to punish her for the way she obviously has no kindness for Robb. Cersei puts a cover on that urge as well as she has on every other urge she’s had since arriving at Winterfell.

As Robb leaves the feast with his younger sister in his arms, Jaime arrives next to her, a quiet whisper leaving his lips for her and only her to hear, “he says meet him in his solar later tonight”

* * *

“The Queen is my mother, isn’t she?!” Robb storms into his father’s solar after making sure they weren’t being followed.

Ned’s eyes widen for a moment before he schools his features, asking in the coldest, calmest voice he could manage, “what ever would give you that idea?”

Robb clenches his jaw angrily, staring straight into his father’s eyes, “don’t lie to me, Father. You’ve raised me to be Lord of Winterfell, not a fool”

Ned raises a questioning eyebrow, still silent and waiting for his son’s explanation.

“Fine!” Robb exclaims, “how about the fact that I am the only one of your children with green eyes, Lannister green eyes to be specific? Or the fact that the you and the Queen seem to have a close connection? Or maybe the fact that the Queen would not stop staring at me throughout the day? Or how about my favourite, the fact that Lady Stark treats me as she does Jon, not her children, and she flinches every time I call her Mother instead of Lady Stark?!”

Ned stares at his son, still refusing to admit to anything for the longest time, until he finally breaks, sighing and reaching for his cup of wine. He hands it to his son, pouring another for himself while ordering his son to sit.

“I would deny it...” Ned starts, immediately getting cut off by Robb, “don’t, Father. I’ve come to accept it long ago that I am a bastard same as Jon. What I don’t understand is why you would give me your name and not Jon”

Ned nods, a grim look upon his face, “as I was saying, I would have denied it again, but you are ten and seven years now, and as you already know some part of it, you should know the whole truth.

“Your mother, your real mother, and I… we had been so in love, but I was only a second son then, and her father had so many plans for her. Catelyn was never supposed to be mine, neither was Cersei, but I so wished she could be. When the Mad King killed your grandfather and Uncle Brandon, I was forced to keep to Brandon’s vow to wed Catelyn. I hope you never do, but one day you might understand the anger and pain I felt at having to uphold that agreement, and I hope if the day does come, that you’ll be wiser than me, because I was young and foolish. I refused to give up your mother, even though I had married Catelyn. During the war, son, news from outside came rarely and far between, and so I had no knowledge that either Cersei or Catelyn were with child until much later. When I did find out, I planned to have you be raised as twins, you and your brother, but that was not to be”

Robb frowns, “Lady Stark’s child did not make it, did it?”

Ned sighs, “No, he did not. Catelyn carried your brother for nine months, only to give birth to a dead boy. It broke some part of her, to lose her child in such a way. I was not much help, bringing home another woman’s son and forcing her to call him her own, but I could not… would not leave you behind. And then Catelyn had Sansa and Arya, and even though she loves them with her whole heart, she had taken it as a personal failure that she could not provide me with another heir, even if I’d already told her that you were my heir, no matter if I had another son or not.”

Robb entwines his fingers tightly, eyebrows creased, and mouth set into a thin line. After a moment, he forces himself to speak again, “this doesn’t explain Jon. Why would you give me your name and not Jon? And if you say you loved my mother, why would you dishonor her even more than you’d already done?”

Ned flinches, he’d always refused to admit that he’d dishonored Cersei when he impregnated her in wedlock, but Robb knew not of his father’s denial, only the facts. Ned rubs his face in frustration and tells another story, one of his attempted rescue of his sister after the war.

“She begged me with her last breaths to take her child and raise him as my own, and I could not refuse her as she died,” he explains.

Robb’s eyes widen, a breathless whisper leaving his lips, “Jon…”

“Is Aegon Targaryan, the rightful heir to the throne, yes. But neither your mother nor Catelyn know. Your mother believes he is Brandon’s bastard, who I claimed as mine to keep eyes off you, and your obvious similarities to her. Catelyn believes he is just another of my bastards.”

“But if she believes we’re both your bastards, why did she not question why you gave only me your name?”

“I believe she chalked it up to me loving your mother and not Jon’s,” Ned sighs. This was a truly difficult conversation that he did not want to be having, but his past was catching up with him and Ned at least had the honor to face it.

“This is… this is insane!” Robb exclaims, anger and disbelief toning his voice.

“I know this is a lot to take in, Robb. You should go get some sleep. Maybe I can arrange for you to truly meet your mother tomorrow. I know she would like nothing more. And we can both answer all your questions then”

Robb recognized a dismissal when he heard one, and even if he did not want to end this conversation yet, he was not about to argue with his father during such a time. He did not miss the shadow of gold hair entering his father’s solar as he rounded the corner though.


	2. 2

Robb woke as he always does, at dawn. He called for some servants to ready the bath for him and washed himself quickly before dressing. Just as he was tying his belts around his waist, a servant came with a summons from his father. It took Robb mere minutes to find himself in the stable with his father and, to his frustration, the Queen.

“My Queen, Father,” Robb curtsied, forcing himself to be polite.

“Do not bow for me, my son. Only my subjects bend the knee,” Cersei spoke softly, reaching out to raise his chin with gentle fingers.

Robb hid his discomfort well, she noted, he was meant to be Lord of Winterfell after all, but he was still no match for her years of experience in reading people, and his eyes were clear portals to his soul for anyone who thought to look. Just like his father, she thought kindly.

“That is what I am, am I not? I’m only one of your subjects,” Robb said, challenge toning his voice.

Cersei wanted to laugh. He was so obviously his father’s son. She did not let a breath out of her lips though, instead moving her hands from his chin to cup his cheek, “oh, my son, there is much to tell you and little time to do so”

One of the great steeds let out a neigh, breaking the two out of their conversation as Ned called out to them, “we should get going. We do not want to be delayed and draw attention to ourselves”

Robb made quick work of readying his horse and mounting him, taking note of the fact that his father readies the Queen’s horse for her and helps her mount it. He also notices that the Queen rides like a man and he does not know whether to smile or frown. His father informs him of a location in the woods and orders him to lead the Queen there after a count of 10 moments, and then he leaves Robb with her, trapped in unbearable silence. Robb cannot thank the Old Gods enough when the time finally passes and he starts riding to the woods.

By the time his father arrived, Robb had already helped the Queen off her horse and tied their horses to a nearby tree. His father must have taken the longer path to throw whoever could be watching off their tracks. Robb waited patiently as his father tied his own horse.

They made their way to a fallen tree trunk, the Queen sitting atop it and his father taking a seat on a nearby rock, forcing Robb to sit next to his mother. He believes they’ve done it on purpose.

Robb does not speak a single word, he will not be the one to break under the stressful silence. His father, the Quiet Wolf, stared at him grimly, not speaking either. In the end, it is his mother who finally, unsurprisingly cracked, “Your father has already told you our story. You must have something to say”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

It was a predictable question, and Robb knew it was, but he would not delve into the emotionally packed ones without leading up to them.

Ned sighed, “no, we thought we could protect you from the truth”

“And how did you come to the decision that I would be raised in Winterfell? Why not pass me off as the King’s son, your grace?”

Had Ned been less of a man, he would have been offended at his son’s question. It was good fortune, then, that Ned had expected his son to ask a question such as this.

A tight smile made its way to Cersei’s lips, and she turned to have a clearer view of Robb, who would not betray any emotion onto his face, “I was not married when I had you, and your father had been the only man I had lain with. The King would never have taken kindly to his queen having a bastard, much less if he knew that it was his best friend who sired him. And please, Robb, do not address me so formally. I did not grow you in my womb for you to refer to me as such”

Robb could not hold himself from scoffing this time. How dare she demand he speak to her as a mother when she never was one to him?! “And what would you have me call you, Mother?”

“Cersei will do just fine,” she sighed and Robb stared at her, still irritated.

“Why have you never contacted me? Why make me believe Lady Stark was my mother? Why let me go through the pain of believing my own mother hated me? Was I so repulsive a mistake that you wanted to punish me in such a way?”

Ned frowned deeply, he’d always known that Catelyn had treated the boy badly, but he’d never thought that it was that awful, or that it had affected him greatly. Robb had seemed such a perfect son, after all.

Cersei reached for Robb gently, holding his hand tightly in one hand and brushing some of his curls off his face with the other. Right at that moment, Robb felt like a little boy again, with Septa Mordane helping him stand again after a particularly difficult sword wielding lesson. The woman had always been kind to him when she had time with him, rare as it was since she had always been busy with Sansa and, later, Arya. In his youth, Robb had imagined that that would be what his mother’s touches would have felt like if she had loved him. Loath as he was to admit it, Cersei’s touch was even kinder and more loving, and Robb didn’t know how to react to it except look down in shame for relishing in it.

“Look at me, Robb,” Cersei prompted gently, waiting for him to reluctantly meet her eyes, “you have never been, and will never be, a mistake. Yes, you were not planned, but you are my darling boy, and parting with you was the hardest decision I have ever made, and every day gone by without you in my arms was torture. Some day you will understand what it feels like to be a parent, and let me tell you, Robb, you never love anything in the world the way you love your first child. And when that day comes, you will also understand how you would sacrifice everything you own and everything that you are just to ensure their safety. You’re intelligent, Robb, I know you are. I see it in your eyes. So yes, I could have contacted you. Yes, I could have let you know I am your mother. But you know that then I would have also risked Lady Stark, or Maester Luwin, or even King Robert realizing that you are my son, and have all our heads on spikes”

Robb clenched his jaw firmly. He knew Cersei was right, but that didn’t take away the pain of lies and years gone by. He started compartmentalizing his mind, tucking away his emotions and pulling up all his years of political training. He must have shown a tick of some sort because he suddenly found himself in his mother’s arms, a gentle but strong hug. It took Robb more than a few moments to melt into the hug and hold his mother in return.

His eyes trained on his son and past lover, Ned marveled at how easily people can be deceived when they did not know what they were seeing. Robb’s features reflected those of Cersei’s much more than they did him. From his lips, to the shape of his eyes, to his cheekbones, Robb was Cersei’s son through and through, but all people saw was the signature dark hair, his father’s nose, and the Stark chin, and there they went calling the eldest Stark child his father’s copy. Ned knew though, and he knew Cersei saw it too, that his son was actually a classic Lannister except for his dark hair… a lion in wolf’s clothing. And perhaps, just perhaps, that was one of the reasons Ned was adamant that his son would be a great lord, because his son had the blood of eras of lions and wolves, he had the best of all of them in him, and he was destined for greatness.

Robb pulled out of his mother’s grasp, sitting straight and staring at his parents with a determination in his eyes, “have you stopped your affair or are you still dishonoring yourselves?”

Cersei sighed, reaching for Robb’s hands again as Ned answered, “no, that’s stopped long ago”

“But you’re still stealing away,” Robb challenged, his voice hard.

Cersei left his hands to reach for his father’s instead, drawing comfort and strength from him as she answered for the both of them, a tender look upon her eyes and raw emotion in his, “one day, my son, you will know what it means to love someone so fully and completely that merely being in the same room as them brings you joy and comfort. When the day comes, I sincerely hope that you can make her your wife and not see her wed to someone else”

Robb wanted to argue, wanted to say that he would never understand dishonoring himself, wanted to scream at the constant mentions of future understanding. He glared at his parents and controlled himself well, snorting internally a moment later when he realized that all three of them were probably holding down many urges. Some family they were, not even comfortable enough to be themselves around each other.

They sat in silence, many words hanging in the air between them. Robb observed his father and Cersei depend on each other for reassurance, and it astonished him how they could still have such a deep bond even if they had not met or spoken to one another in nine years. He finally decided to break the silence a few moments later when he noticed the sun’s position, “everyone must have broken their fast by now. We should head back soon, before our absence becomes too suspicious. But first, I need to know who else knows about this”

His parents did not even take a moment to recall who knew their secret, already reciting names.

“My brothers, Jaime and Tyrion. My father. The maester that delivered you knew, but he passed away”

“Your Uncle Benjen. Maester Luwin knows you are not Catelyn’s son, but doesn’t know who your mother is. That is all I believe”

Cersei nodded once, confirming Ned’s statement. Ned stood then, reaching out with his hand to Cersei, helping her to her feet and kissing her hand once she was stood. Robb watched awkwardly, uncomfortable with his father’s displays of affection, especially having never seen him act so lovingly towards Lady Stark.

Cersei turned towards him then, a gaze Robb couldn’t quite decipher in her eyes, “I would like for you to break your fast with my family until we leave. The King never breaks his fast with us, so he would not be suspicious. We can say that I’ve requested this to get to know the future Lord of Winterfell and of Winterfell’s customs”

Robb hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering towards his father to make sure he had no objections to this and that it was not a terrible idea. He saw his father nod slightly, and he turned back to Cersei with a keen gleam in his eyes, “Lady Stark would be too relieved to have me be away to question it much”

“Wonderful. Now, darling, will you be so dear as to give me a moment with your father before we return?”

Robb bowed slightly, his training still getting the better of him. He made his way to the horses, tales of showing the Queen the wonders of the North already on his tongue for their arrival. Once he was out of earshot, Cersei fell into Ned’s arms, barely holding herself together.

“We need to speak, Ned. I have important news for you and with the issue of Robb finding out, I haven’t had the time to tell you”

“Nothing terrible has befallen you, has there?” Ned asked, concern lacing his voice.

Cersei grinned, leave it to Ned to always jump to her protection, “no, Ned, there is nothing wrong, but we do need to speak”

“I will find a way for us to do so”

With that, the couple made their way to where their son was stood, already having readied the horses. Robb made quick work of mounting his horse, watching from the corner of his eye as his father helped Cersei mount hers once again. He did notice that this time, the Queen rode side saddle and smirked, knowing that everyone’s eyes would be trained on the two of them as they made their way to Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if its a my-parents thing or if all parents do it, but my parents used to tell me I'll understand when I'm older for practically everything. So yeah. Also, i'm open for prompts or suggestions if anyone has them. I mean, I never understood authors that are like "I don't want anyone to discuss my stories with me". Like nah man, give the people what they want.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally submitted my research yesterday and I got through the last day in the trimester today. Damn, it's been a long and wild year. I just have to get through finals now. That's gonna take two more weeks, but after that I'm free to write as much as I want so yeah. Don't worry, though, writing is my break from studying so you'll get some chapters meanwhile :)

Young Prince Tommen Baratheon giggled as he ran through the hallways of Winterfell, Brandon Stark alongside him with his direwolf. The two boys laughed heartily as they reached the courtyard and made their way to the Broken Tower.

“Wait here,” Bran ordered lightheartedly as he started climbing the stones of the tower.

“But Bran, you said you’ll teach me to climb like you,” Tommen whined.

“I will,” Bran reassured him, “but you have to see me do it first, so you know what to do”

Bran grinned as he got over a particularly difficult part of the climb, at which point he started hearing two voices. Bran cocked his head, his curiosity getting the better of him as he slowly but surely made his way closer to the window, the words becoming clearer and the voices becoming more distinct.

“What are you planning to do, Cersei?! You’ve had him break his fast with us for a fortnight. You let the children play with him and his siblings. Do you forget that Joffrey is to wed Sansa? What do you think his reaction to that would be? Do you think your always honorable lover raised your son to be able to let these things go?”

Bran frowned as confusion engulfed his young mind, whoever was addressing the Queen was obviously speaking about Robb. After all, who other than Robb had broken their fast with the Queen’s family. But why would Robb have a reaction to Sansa and Joffrey being betrothed? Sure, Robb would be worried about Sansa, but he would be happy for her. She’d get to be queen one day. And it’s not like this was new news, everyone knew the King had wanted to join their houses for so long. But then again, what did the man mean when he said that the King was honorable and raised Joffrey to not let things go? Everyone knew the King never cared about honoring his marital vows. And what would Joffrey need to let go of?

With renewed curiosity and mouth set in a determined line, Bran inched closed to the window of the tower.

“What can I do, Jaime?! He’s my son! I carried him for nine moons in my womb! And he knows it, knew it before we even spoke! You’ve seen him, Jaime. Robb is every bit my son as he is Ned’s. He deserves to have me in his life in some way, deserves to have a mother who loves him”

Bran’s eyes widened, shock and conflict immediately marring his beautiful features. Could the Queen speak true? Could Robb, his elder brother, the one his father loved dearly, be a bastard same as Jon? But why would Father only give Robb the Stark name then? Why not Jon, too? Why would Mother accept this? Is this why Mother had always seemed to hate Robb? Could Father and the Queen really be Robb’s parents?

“Cersei, do you hear yourself? You speak like Eddard. You are not a Stark, Cersei, remember? You just gave your cunt to one"

A loud crack pierced the air, and Bran frowned, already knowing that the Queen must have slapped her brother. With sudden bravery, Bran dared to look behind the window and see that it was indeed the Queen and the Kingslayer speaking in there.

“So there it is. You want to pretend that all is well, that Eddard and… hey! You! Boy!”

Terror gripped Bran’s heart, and he immediately tried to climb back down, but he was too slow compared to the three long steps the Kingslayer took to reach the window and grab a hold of him. Bran tried not to shake in fear as he stared at Jaime Lannister eye to eye.

Jaime cocked an eyebrow and secured Bran, who had started wobbling. He looked out the window, slightly impressed at the height the boy had climbed, but frowned when he saw little Tommen watching them from below.

“Hello, Uncle Jaime,” Tommen shouted, his childish voice barely heard over the distance.

Jaime forced a smile on his face and waved to the boy after pulling Bran into the tower.

“Run along now, Prince Tommen. Find another person to play with. I need to have a talk with the young Stark”

Tommen scowled for a moment before running off to find Rickon, and Jaime sighed before turning to face his sister and the child staring up at them in fear.

“It’s not very nice to eavesdrop on people now, is it?”

* * *

“You drugged my son?!”

Ned could not believe his ears. He couldn’t believe something like this happened. He’d only been gone for a few days for the King’s hunting trip. How could this happen in such little time?

“Oh, you say it like I poisoned him or gave him milk of the poppy. I only gave him a sleeping tea, the same one given to anyone with an insomniac episode. And its not like I had him sleep for days on end. For all he or anyone knows, he had an exciting day yesterday and slept off all the exhaustion. You can’t make me believe that Lady Stark has never employed such a method to take a break from her children”

Ned stared, disbelief and disgruntlement marring his usually stoic face. He tried to force his mouth to formulate some words or his brain to bring forth a reaction, but he failed at both terribly. By the time he managed to force his lips to open, Cersei started speaking again, “can we speak about the real matter at hand now? Your son eavesdropped on me and Jaime, and now he knows everything there is to know about our situation with Robb. As much as I would like to hope that Brandon will not use that information in any way, I cannot imagine him not informing his mother of what he knows. And we both know that Lady Stark has never treated my son with the respect he deserves and has been searching for any way to take him out and have Brandon as the heir to Winterfell”

“Bran,” Ned whispered as he rubbed his face agitatedly.

“I beg your pardon,” Cersei cocked an eyebrow.

“He hates being called with his full name. We call him Bran,” Ned explained.

“Well he’s not my son, is he now? Your family can call him Bran, but I am his Queen, and he is only another son of an esteemed family to me,” Cersei bit out, and Ned was reminded of how harsh her words could be, of how harsh she could be. It had been one of the reasons he had fell for her so long ago, when they’d first met. She was proud, calculating, and unapologetically the most intelligent person in the room, a true lioness, and he had been shy, timid, and reserved. He was still quiet, yes, but he’d grown out of his diffident nature. Cersei, on the other hand, only seemed to become more and more confident with the years. It’s true, then, what they say about lions never being tamed.

“Bran will wake as he always does. He will break his fast with me and my family. Robb will break his fast with you so that Bran doesn’t stare at him and raise suspicion. He will not speak a word to his mother so long as I am sitting at the table with them. Once we are done, I will take him to my solar and I will explain to him the situation as I did Robb, perhaps leaving out some details. I will explain to him the severity of the situation, and then I’m going to send him out to play with his younger brother. He will not utter a word of this”

“And you expect me to believe that he really would not tell anyone?” Cersei scoffed.

“I expect you to trust me when I tell you that I will take care of a situation,” Ned stared down Cersei, who was immediately reminded of the fact that this was not the naïve lover of her youth, but a grown man who’d won multiple wars.

“Very well then. You seem to have solved the problem. Is there anything else you would like to address before I leave?” Cersei spoke, voice clipped.

“Actually, yes,” Ned groaned, sinking even deeper into himself, his shoulders tightening with stress.

Cersei took a good look at him and pitied him slightly. Everything in his life had been going so well until she and Robert barged into his castle. And that was only in the span of a month, and he was still in Winterfell. Her poor Ned was truly going to suffer in the South.

“Robert has made me two offers during our trip, two which he will not allow me to refuse but one which I must,” Ned told her.

Cersei cocked an eyebrow, already knowing but still dreading what Ned was about to say.

“Robert has offered me the position of Hand of the King, which I accepted. I will be riding South with you in a sennight”

Cersei grinned, allowing herself a moment of weakness as she approached Ned’s seated form and enveloped him in her arms. His found their way to her waist, holding on to her tightly as he buried his face in her abdomen, drawing in a deep breath and tightening his grasp on her, “I can’t do this without you, Cersei. I know its selfish, but I need you with me”

Cersei pulled back just enough to pull his chin up with her fingers. She moved her hand from his face to his hair, combing through it tenderly. She stared into his eyes, enraptured by the sincerity of all the emotions there. Ned inched closer, eyes half-lidded, and Cersei’s breath caught in her throat. She studied his face for a moment, searching for any sign of rejection, she found none. Suddenly, Ned closed what little distance remained between them and pressed his lips to hers. It took Cersei less than a moment to react, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. She kissed him with everything she had had to hide for the past nine years. She played with emotions she had suppressed for so long, with desires that had slowly died but came jumping back when she saw him again. Sadly for her, it took only a moment for Ned to pull back and away from her, already muttering apologies and excuses.

Cersei sighed internally, ignoring him and taking a moment to rearrange herself. Ned was still muttering apologies when she turned to him with a question on her lips, “The other request Robert made to you, it was a betrothal for Joffrey and Sansa, was it not?”

Ned stared at her, trying to understand what she said, before he shook his head, “it is a betrothal, yes, but not for your boy. The King says he is not a right man, that he is not ready for a betrothal”

Cersei fumed internally, how dare Robert speak in such a way about her son?! She blinked, choosing to set aside her anger briefly to inquire about the other betrothal, “who is it for then?”

“Robb and Myrcella”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanted to say, mad love for everyone reading this and for all the support I got for this fic. Thank you to everyone who left kudos or comments, you guys literally make my day and inspire me to keep going. so yeah


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... 1 final down, 4 to go... also, uh, I changed the "Baratheon" kids' ages, because we obviously can't have both Robb and Joffrey be 17. So, Joff is 15, Myrcella is 14, and Tommen is 8... Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter

Ned smiled, muttering a hurried goodbye to Catelyn and lightly kissing the top of her hand, pulling away quickly to watch the scene in front of them.

The Queen stepped into her wheelhouse, her children following, as some servants helped the King onto his horse. Jon readied his own horse on the other side of the court, scowling when his eyes connected with his father’s. Benjen and his men were already on their steeds, waiting with frustration to leave. Ned turned his eyes towards his children. Robb was saying his final farewells to Sansa as Bran quickly enveloped Arya in an embrace. Little Rickon stood in the center of the siblings’ goodbye, not quite understanding what was happening.

“Don’t cause too much trouble,” Robb joked as he pulled Sansa into his arms.

“Please, Robb, we both know its Arya who needs to be told this,” Sansa scowled but hugged Robb back.

Once all the last tasks were taken care of, Ned called out to his children, “it’s time to go!”

Jon quickly mounted his horse, Robb following behind him, with Bran rushing to the Queen’s wheelhouse to ride with them.

Ned mounted his own horse, his bannermen behind him, and with that, the King’s party started their much anticipated departure of Winterfell to King’s Landing.

The ride was mostly uneventful until they reached a fork in the road, where the King’s bannermen continued South and the Night’s Watch turned North. The four Stark men on horseback stayed behind for a moment, saying a last farewell.

“Uncle Benjen, don’t forget to send letters, you know things will get exciting now that I’m headed South with Father,” Robb spoke, voice light.

“Don’t worry, Robb, you will be the second to hear a reply to your letters,” Benjen joked.

“Who’s first?” Robb raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Why, Jon, of course,” Benjen slapped Jon on the back as the boy’s scowl deepened. Before Jon could say anything, though, Ned ordered both boys to rejoin the traveling party.

“Robb, wait,” Benjen called, only continuing when Jon had left and Robb stared at him questioningly, “I know you’re excited to have more time with your mother, but her family are as much snakes as they’re lions. I know your father is too enamored with your mother to warn you so I’m doing so. Take care”

Robb nodded determinedly, giving a quick salute before joining his brother. Benjen turned then to his brother, “you need to tell Jon about his parents”

“He’s not ready, and he doesn’t need to know”

“He does, Ned. You’re entering a pit of snakes, anyone might realize that Jon has some of the Targaryan features. Jon needs to know to be careful”

“Jon is no Targaryan. He is a Stark. He is my son. And I will not have him suffer because his birth father chose to kidnap and rape our sister”

Benjen sighed, shaking his head and reaching out to Ned, “at least think about it”

With that, the two brothers separated, each joining their respective companions.

* * *

Ned took a seat at the breakfast table set for him and the King. He waited for Robert there, watching over the meadow and smiling when he saw Brandon and Tommen running around with Jon watching over them. His smile faded for a moment as he mulled over Jon’s situation, wanting nothing more than to protect his adoptive son the way he could not protect his eldest. His thoughts were abruptly forgotten, however, when Robert took a seat next to him, speaking of days gone by and adventures long since forgotten.

“There was that one… Oh, what was her name? That common girl of yours? Becca! With the great big tits you could bury your face in!” Robert laughed.

“Bessie, she was one of yours,” Ned corrected, amusement drawing all sorts of lines on his face.

“Bessie! Thank the Gods for Bessie! And her tits! Yours was… er… Aleena? No, you told me once… Meryl? Your bastard’s mother?”

All humor left Ned’s eyes as they flicked to where Cersei was standing, speaking to Jaime. He quickly redirected them, lest Robert notice something, only for them to fall on Robb and Tyrion, who seemed to be laughing merrily. Sighing, Ned turned his gaze to Jon again, “Wylla”

“That’s it. She must have been a rare wench to make Lord Eddard Stark forget his honor. You never told me what she looked like”

Ned thought of Cersei. He thought of her golden hair, which shone in the sun. He thought of her brilliant smile, enough to dazzle any man into submission. He thought of her lips, soft and full and oh, so perfectly kissable. He thought of her eyes, bright emeralds that glowed with intelligence. He thought of her smooth skin, sun kissed but unblemished, only marked where her pregnancies had filled her. He compared her to her house’s sigil. She was a true lioness, majestic and beautiful, but dangerous if you’re not careful. He thought of how many maesters had submitted to her in a battle of wits. He thought of how she grinned every time she perfected a new skill. He thought of her love of elephants, and how many nights she’d spent in his arms telling him about them. He thought of how she held her head high, challenging any who dared to look down on her for Robert’s whoring. He thought of how she whispered a tearful goodbye to Robb when he was but a few moons old, promising him that she would always love him and that this was for the best. He thought of how lucky Robert was, and how Robert was unappreciative of the perfection that hung on his arm.

“Nor will I,” Ned sighed, damning the universe for the thousandth time for the cards it dealt him.

Robert, noticing his friend’s despair, tried to offer what little comfort he could, “we were at war. None of us knew if we were going back home again. You’re too hard on yourself. You always have been”

Ned glared at Robert from the side of his eye for a moment before lowering them, sadness replacing anger. Robert laughed, “I swear, if I weren’t your king you’d have hit me already”

Ned chuckled, recalling memories of young boys wrestling around the Eyrie, “the worst thing about your coronation, I’ll never get to hit you again”

“Trust me, that’s not the worst thing”

* * *

“So… it must have been a right shock to find out that you’re my nephew. You’re far better than my current one, I’ll give you that”

“Lord Tyrion, is this your attempt at small talk?” Robb studied Tyrion, who, in turn, studied Robb.

Robb took a look around them, making sure no one was within hearing range as he listened to the other man, “oh, please, none of those formalities. You’re my nephew, we should be more familiar. In fact, that’s why I’m here and not with your other uncle at the Wall. I really wanted to see it, you know? Alas, there is more fun here at the moment, with all the drama you finding out has caused”

Robb snorted, “well, as strange as this introduction is going, it’s still much better than the one I’ve had with your brother”

“Ah, Jaime, he’s a good man, he’s just a bit protective of Cersei. It’s a twins thing, I suppose. Do tell how that encounter went”

“He cornered me after we broke our fast with your family and asked me if I was against killing a man to achieve something”

“And what did you say?”

“That there is nothing but inferiority in needing to kill a man to defeat him in a battle of politics”

Tyrion barked with laughter, clearly amused with Robb’s reply, “you’re no lion, are you, little wolf?”

“Perhaps, Lord Tyrion, and perhaps not. Remember, a lion might not listen to the sheep, but a wolf is not afraid of them”

Before Tyrion could reply, another voice interrupted them, “wisely said, my son”

Robb turned quickly, bowing with a quiet “my queen” and only rising when the Queen motioned for him to do so. Upon standing straight, he managed to glimpse a proud, calculating look in his mother’s eyes, “it’s good to see that you’re a better liar than your father”

Robb stared at the Queen, not knowing if she was joking or not, but feeling quite uneasy. He didn’t know what to say, and luckily, he was spared of having to reply when the Queen spoke again, “your grandfather will be making his way to King’s Landing after we arrive. We shall be meeting him during the days of the Hand’s Tourney”

“The Hand’s Tourney?” Tyrion cocked an eyebrow.

“Robert’s latest reason to spend money. He wants to hold a tourney to honor Ned becoming Hand of the King. It does not matter, let him spend what he will, it’s not like anyone can convince him otherwise”

“Father will not be pleased to hear about that. He’s always managed Winterfell’s accounts carefully,” Robb stated, already thinking of ways to support his father.

“That may be so, but he’ll find that Robert is not as easy to deal with as when they were younger. Anyhow, I fear we have started to draw some attention to ourselves. I promise we’ll be able to speak more freely when we reach King’s Landing, but for now I must leave you be. Come, Tyrion”

With that, Robb was left alone, watching over the field the King’s party had taken over for the previous night. He made to leave for his tent, but before he could do so, another voice stopped him, “what is it with you and Mother? Why does she hold so much interest in a Northern savage?”

Robb turned, gaze settling on the crown prince. He cocked a challenging eyebrow and stared the younger boy down, “what is between a queen and her subject, remains between a queen and her subject”

Joffrey scoffed, glaring at Winterfell’s heir, “and I am the crown prince. If I tell you to inform me of something, you will do so”

“What if I don’t? What will you do then, my Prince?” Robb mocked, already fed up with the teenager’s entitlement.

“How dare you speak to me in such a way?! I’ll have your head for this! Just you wait!”

“Do you know, my Prince, that only the King and the Lords Paramount can actually pass a beheading sentence?”

Joffrey balked, not used to having someone stand up to him in such a way. He stared at Robb in shock, trying to decide on what to do and realizing that should he challenge the older boy to a duel, he would lose, as Robb would not submit to him in fear, and that would hurt his pride even more. Before Joffrey could settle on an appropriate action, however, Robb sighed, “if you’ll excuse me, my Prince, I believe Lord Stark is calling for me”

Joffrey, upon being left by himself, fumed even more. He promptly resolved to storm into his mother’s tent, complaints on Northern barbarians already on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest, I suffered major writer's block with this one, but I pushed through because honestly, you guys are the best, and the amount of support I got for this fic is waaaaayyy more than I ever expected. So, I hope you enjoyed it :)


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, just one more week...

It was a beautiful day, Robb knew that much. The sun shone high and bright, light reflecting brilliantly off their surroundings. The sky was a flawless, pleasant color, the birds clearly visible as they chirped happily, jumping from tree to tree. The plants swayed gently as the winds that gave them life blew coolly on his face. His nose filled with the sweet aroma of the roses his mother was caressing. He dared reach out with his free hand, the one that his mother was not holding on to, and feel the soft petals of the red bloom. As fiery as his mother’s house sigil, he thought. He inhaled deeply, and he imagined he could almost taste the saltiness of the nearby sea on his lips.

He turned his gaze to his mother, smiling tenderly as he noticed the way her hair glowed as vividly as her gold in the sunlight. He took a moment to admire her beauty, thinking her a perfection unlike any other. Perhaps, he thought, he was biased. After all, this was the woman who birthed him, who loved him more than herself, who offered him a sacrifice larger than any other, who gave him up only to ensure he had a good life. Didn’t every son look at his mother and see an angel?

“Robb, dear, could you be so kind as to find Tommen and spend some time with him? He is your family, and it would do him good to have an older brother who was not so distant from him”

Robb nodded, having already seen his father walking towards them. He spoke a quiet farewell once the Hand of the King had approached them enough and left, the last thought on his mind before locating the youngest royal child was that the look on his father’s face did not match the loveliness of the day.

“It’s a good thing you’ve come to me. We need to talk,” Cersei reached out to him, linking her arm with his. Ned, however, was in no mood for pleasantries, “why did you not tell me that the throne was millions in debt to your father?”

“Always so serious,” Cersei whispered, reaching up to peck the base of his throat, “It’s not like we’ve had much opportunity to converse, and whatever we had has been spent discussing our son. Anyhow, we can discuss your duties as Hand later, I promise, but now we have other more pressing matters regarding the both of us”

Ned was about to argue, words already on the tip of his tongue, when the Queen turned to him and placed a gentle finger on his lips, “we’ve a betrothal to break, and another matter that I have kept to myself for too long”

Ned clenched his jaw, his forehead marred with lines as he silently asked her to continue.

“Do you know, darling, the age of the youngest prince?”

Ned cocked an eyebrow, not understanding where the Queen was going with this. He humored her nonetheless, “Robert said he was eight”

“That’s true,” Cersei nodded, “and when was the last time you’ve seen your King, and, subsequently, your Queen, dearest Ned?”

“Nine years ago,” the wheels clicked and whirred in his head, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Ned’s stomach.

Upon seeing the look on Ned’s face, Cersei provided the last push, “it’s a good thing I’ve managed to have this garden built, isn’t it? So private and secluded. One could plot murder or conceive little princes here and none would be the wiser”

Ned stopped in his track, groaning and rubbing his face with frustration, “Prince Tommen is my son”

It was not a question, the circumstances already clear as day, but Cersei confirmed his statement anyway.

“Why did you not tell me before?”

“And how was I supposed to do that? Through raven? You’d already been at Winterfell for two months when I found out, not to mention you had just ended our affair. Besides, what would you have done? Come back and taken Tommen from me, too?”

Ned flinched, knowing her argument was sounder than his without having to think about it. He sighed, “why tell me now?”

“Because you’re his father, you should know. And my darling boy deserves to have a father. Robert may believe he sired Tommen, but he does not play any role in his life. That’s not to say that he plays one in my other children’s lives, but whatever attention he could give between his drunken hours is given to Joffrey. Myrcella does not feel his absence too keenly because she is awfully close to her uncle. But Tommen, he has no one offering him that sort of guidance”

Ned found a nearby bench, taking a seat on it and ignoring the memories that surfaced as a result of his surroundings. He waited until his former lover was next to him before speaking, “tell me about him”

The Queen’s eyes shone with love and pride almost immediately, “Tommen might have most of my looks, but I see you in everything he does. Do you know, his eyes are as open as yours and Robb’s. He’s the sweetest boy I have ever seen, so kind and compassionate. He’s polite and humble, and quite intelligent. He does so well in his lessons and he’s even started training to wield a sword. And despite Joffrey’s mocking and meanness towards him, he’s remained gentle, and merciful, and loving”

Ned smiled sadly, trying to recall every moment and every time he’d seen the littlest prince, all the while his heart twisted agonizingly in his chest. He wondered if this is what it felt like for Cersei when she saw Robb again for the first time.

* * *

“You called for me, Lord Stark?”

Ned looked up from the papers on his desk. He frowned slightly, “do not be so anxious, Jon. I’m speaking to you as your father, not your lord. Close the door”

Jon did as he was told and took a seat quickly, studying his father as he waited for him to speak.

“How are you finding King’s Landing?”

“It’s not a terrible place, though Winterfell will always be home”

Ned smiled, no matter what happened, Jon was his son, and he shared his emotions, “and what are you doing with your time?”

“I’m spending most of it with Jory and the servants. I’ve managed to convince some of the lower knights of King’s Landing to allow me to train with them, so I’m refining my dueling skills”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, Jon. I know you wish to be at the Wall and take the Black, but I’m glad you’re here with us,” Ned stood and moved around the table. He sat again on the chair in front of Jon, so that he was closer to the boy. Jon frowned and nodded, lowering his eyes so his father would not see that he was still angry about not being allowed to take the Black.

“Jon, look at me,” Ned prompted softly, knowing what he was about to tell the boy would agitate him, and wanting to be able to know exactly what he was thinking.

Jon looked up reluctantly, his father’s tone suddenly making him nervous.

“What I’m about to tell you is something you should never speak of to anyone, your safety and life depends on it. I had not actually planned to tell you before, because I wanted to protect you from this information, but we’ve entered a pit of snakes, and there are many people here who would love to harm us. This was a really hard decision, but you are seven and ten now, you should know, and you should be able to take caution”

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed as worry settled deep in his stomach, “what is it, Father?”

Ned took a deep breath, preparing himself for the truth he was about to uncover, “do you know what happened to your aunt Lyanna?”

Jon’s frown deepened, he could not see where his father was going with this, and it made him more nervous, “she was kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar before the King’s Rebellion. You found her a year later, but she was dead, so you took her home to be buried in the crypt”

“That’s the gist of it, yes, and that’s everything I told you and your siblings. There’s one thing I haven’t told anyone but your brother, however,” Ned studied his son’s face, dreading this moment more than anything else, “when I found Lyanna in the Tower of Joy, she was dying. I felt so helpless... there was nothing I could do, but then a woman came in with a tiny bundle in her arms. Lyanna had been terrified of what she knew was inevitable, but in that moment, all the fear was forgotten. The woman placed the bundle in my arms, and I looked down to see the tiniest babe I had ever seen. Lyanna’s last words were of her and Rhaegar’s son, who she named Aegon Targaryen. Her dying wishes were that I raise him in the North as she and every Stark before her was raised”

Ned watched Jon, who was shaking his head slightly, tears and disbelief in his eyes. The boy, a young man now, gulped and his eyes widened with desperation as Ned continued, “I promised you I would tell you about your mother one day. Lyanna was a brave and wild woman, and she was a free soul. I’m truly sorry you did not have a chance to know her, but you need to know, Jon, that this changes nothing. You might not be my son by birth, but you have Stark blood, my blood, in you. You are my son, and I have loved you as I’ve loved all your siblings”

Jon stood roughly, jaw clenched and hard stare in his eyes, “may I be excused?”

Ned stood too, he surprised Jon by pulling him into his arms in an awkward and strained hug, before letting him go with a quiet, “be careful”

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when Ned decided to take a break from his work and head towards the courtyard to check on his youngest. He leaned against a nearby pillar and watched as Bran and Tommen took turns to swing their wooden swords against their instructor, jumping and trying to evade every hit sent towards them. He grinned proudly when Tommen managed to hit his instructor, and chuckled when the boy was taken down the moment after. Bran held himself for a slightly longer time than the younger child, a result of his age, but Bran’s focus had been on archery in Winterfell, and he did not fare much better than his brother.

The instructor set the two boys against each other, then, and as Ned watched his two boys spar, sadness crept up on him, engulfing him and his thoughts. He didn’t have much chance to contemplate them though, because the King’s squire, Lancel Lannister, approached him with a nervous, “Lord Tywin Lannister has arrived in King’s Landing”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the matter of Tommen's parentage discovered... anyways, all R&Rs welcome :)


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another one of the Lannisters had a change in age. Janei, in the series/books is only 3 years old, but I made her 12, for *jazz hands* CrEAtiVe pURpOsES!

“You should have married her!”

All breath left Ned’s lungs as he was slammed against a wall out of nowhere. He wheezed as he raised his arms to try and push off whoever had accosted him, eyes still closed from the pain of his hit. He finally forced his eyes open and saw Jaime’s livid face in front of him.

“Jaime, I should have known it was you. What are you talking about now?” Ned sneered.

“Don’t you dare act stupid! You know what I’m talking about! You should have married Cersei the moment you bedded her, you piece of Northern shit!” Jaime’s eyes were wild, he was breathing hard through his nose, and spit flew out his mouth as he thundered.

“Is that what this is about? What’s brought this up now? You already know it was not possible. I was only a second son and it was your father who refused me when I asked for her hand in marriage”

“Spare me your nonsense! My father might have refused you when you were only a second son, but it was you who decided to marry the Tully bitch instead of my sister the moment you became lord. You speak a whole game on honor, but you, Ned Stark, are as honorable as a dog”

Ned seethed. He pushed Jaime off him with great strength, holding him against the wall by his collar, “first, don’t you ever disrespect the mother of my children again. Second, I did ask again for Cersei’s hand in marriage after I became Lord of Winterfell, but it was your father who refused me again. Third, I may have some stains on my honor, but you are most certainly not the one to lecture me on it, Kingslayer, when my only wrongs are two sons”

“You forget adultery and treason. Don’t try to convince me you tried your damnest best to make Cersei your lady wife, Lord Stark. You should have married her, eloped with her for all I care. But you didn’t care because you were using her. You didn’t care because you had a dutiful woman for a wife and my beautiful sister on the side. And even now you continue to play with her as you like while your good friend dishonors her publicly at every turn and forces me to listen to it!”

With that, Jaime heaved Ned off him with a snarl and left the Northman standing by himself in an empty tower.

Ned sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve his tension. He turned around then and continued to his solar, attempting to finish as much work as possible before having to meet Lord Tywin after the tourney.

* * *

Robb observed the scene in front of him, studying everything and everyone. His father might refuse to come to the tourney, but he and Bran had never been to one before, and it was a good opportunity to learn more about the culture of the South. His eyes connected for a moment with Prince Joffrey’s, and he rolled them at the sneer he received. Robb’s gaze then fell on Myrcella, who smiled shyly at him. Robb smiled back, not wanting to hurt the sweet girl, but his face held a grimace. He had yet to spend time with the Princess or find a way to tell her of their common parentage. Before he could see Prince Tommen, who he had quickly decided was his favorite brother from his maternal side, however, his eyes found Lord Tywin Lannister. It was pretty hard to mistake the man, what with the way he held himself and the fine clothes he wore.

Lord Tywin himself had been studying the commotion when he turned his eyes to meet Robb’s. Lannister green met Lannister green, same in color yet completely different. Robb knew his own eyes were a pool of emotion. The eyes he stared into, on the other hand, were cold and unfeeling, and Robb wondered what could have happened to make the man so aloof.

“So you’ve met Lord Lannister?” a voice interrupted Robb’s musings.

Robb tore his eyes off Lord Tywin to see who had addressed him. He immediately did not like who he saw, even if he did not know who it was, but the man seemed too devious and Robb did not like the look in his eyes.

“I apologize, I do not seem to know you,” Robb replied curtly, knowing that whoever it was and however much he didn’t trust him, he still had to show respect. It was not the man, but Jory who replied, “Lord Robb, this is Lord Baelish. He is…”

“An old family friend,” Lord Baelish interrupted, “I’ve known your mother a long, long time”

Robb forced a smile on his face, already knowing Lord Baelish meant Catelyn and not Cersei. He went into his mind for a moment, forcing all thoughts of his astonishing golden mother out, and trying to conjure up any good memory of the unpleasant Lady Stark.

His conversation with Lord Baelish was prematurely put on hold when the King bellowed for the tourney to start. Robb noticed his mother rolling her eyes and leaving, disdain written all over her beautiful face. He turned back to the joust and watched as Ser Gregor defeated Ser Hugh in a bloody spectacle. Bran had turned as white as a sheet next to him as they watched Ser Hugh choke up the very same liquid that had given him life. On his other side, Lord Baelish started telling him the story of the Mountain and the Hound, and Robb kept a straight face as he listened, hiding his disgust for both the Mountain and Littlefinger.

Not for the first time since he came here, Robb wished he could have stayed and kept his mother with him in Winterfell.

On the other side of the Keep, Ned closed his eyes, releasing a deep breath before calling out to whomever knocked on his door to enter. Unsurprisingly, one of his bannermen came in. The surprise came after, when he announced the Queen. Ned cocked a questioning eyebrow as she came in, she was supposed to be attending the tourney.

“Your grace,” he greeted politely, waiting for his bannerman to leave the room and grant them their privacy.

“You’re missing your tournament,” Cersei spoke, voice full of mirth.

“Putting my name on it doesn’t make it mine”

It’d taken less than a moment after the doors were closed for him to find Cersei in his arms, “I don’t know what my father wants with Robb, but I don’t like it”

“We’ll get through it together,” Ned promised with a kiss to her hairline.

She pulled out of his arms, "now, let's speak about how trusting you are, my dear, and the lords of the Small Council"

* * *

“Lord Lannister”

“Lords Stark,” Tywin nodded appreciatively at Robb’s show of respect.

Ned studied the older man, wondering what it was he was here for and what he was plotting, for surely the ever conniving Lord of House Lannister was planning something.

“Lord Robb, surely you pray to the Old Gods, like your father?”

“Aye,” Robb replied confidently, frowning when Lord Tywin shook his head in disappointment.

“You will not do,” Tywin said, barely repressing a sigh.

Robb’s frown deepened, “I will not do for what?”

“Surely you’ve heard I’ve no heir but my disgrace of a son, Tyrion. I had hoped to see more Lannister in you, but you are a wolf through and through. I have another proposal though”

Robb felt unease settle in the pit of his stomach as he listened to Tywin. This was the first time he had met his grandfather, and the man cared not for him in the slightest, only worried about what glory Robb could bring. Ned inquired about Tywin’s proposal through gritted teeth, and Robb knew that Ned was only forcing himself to be polite because he couldn’t afford to make Tywin Lannister his enemy at the moment.

“My younger brother, Ser Kevan Lannister, has a daughter. You, Lord Eddard, are surely doing your best to break young Robb’s betrothal to Princess Myrcella. Kevan’s daughter, Janei, is twelve years of age, only five years younger than my grandson. I am proposing a betrothal between the two of them, and making their second son, my great grandson, my heir”

It was Robb who replied to Tywin’s proposal, and not, as customary, Ned, “tell me, Lord Tywin, why I should accept this proposal, why I should give you the heir you so desperately need, when it was you who slighted my father and refused to allow him to wed my mother? You could have married my mother to my father and had one of my younger brothers then, but you didn’t think a son of the North worthy. You stood so tall and mighty when you had an heir, looking down on everyone, but now you despair. I’ll tell you something, _Grandfather_ , if a Northman was not worthy of your dynasty then, a Northman will not nurse on its gold now”

Stunned silence settled between the three men, only interrupted by Robb’s stiff “if you’ll excuse me, my lords, I fear I have matters to attend to” a moment later as he left his father’s solar, leaving the Lord of Winterfell to deal with the chaos he caused by insulting the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands.

* * *

“Not only am I a bastard, but the product of rape, too”

Robb looked up from the book he was studying, seeing Jon standing in front of him. He blinked in surprise, trying to decide where Jon was going with this, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. Father told me. He told me Aunt Lyanna is actually my mother and my father is Prince Rhaegar, who kidnapped her”

Robb sighed, closing his book and motioning for Jon to take a seat next to him, trying to offer some comfort to his younger brother, “I don’t know what Father told you, but he told me Aunt Lyanna was married to Prince Rhaegar, that doesn’t sound like rape to me”

“Lying to me isn’t any better than pretending to be stupid, Robb. Prince Rhaegar was already married to Princess Elia when I was born. The only way for me to not be a bastard is if Rhaegar had annulled his marriage, which doesn’t make this any better. My parents were selfish dolts”

The two boys sat in silence, contemplating their families and what their life would hold because of them. After some time, Robb nudged the other boy slightly, weak smile on his face, “hey, if it makes you feel any better, my grandfather is a cruel asshole who wants me to marry my cousin”

Jon turned to Robb with a look of surprise and worry, “so you were right”

“Yeah, I was. I’m a bastard. It matters not, Jon, for neither me nor you. Our father is Eddard Stark, he is the most honorable man we know, you are my brother, and Winter is coming. No matter what happens, it’s us against everyone else”

Jon stared at his brother for a moment, thinking of what was said, before finally nodding with a whisper of “I am no Targaryen. I am a Stark of Winterfell and son of Eddard Stark, regardless of my last name”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have suddenly gotten inspiration for this chapter and then not studied to write it and now I don't know what I'm gonna do on my final... there's only two left so that's one thing to look forward to. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter and, as always, all R&Rs welcome :)


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S FINALLY STARTED THEIR VACATION!!! Anyways, enjoy :)

Ned barely held back a sigh as he watched the sisters go about healing young Ser Hugh and making him comfortable. There was no chance for Ser Hugh to recover, though, and everyone in the tent knew it. Ned gave a short thanks to the sisters and listened to Ser Barristan as they left the tent.

“Life is strange. Not so many years ago, we fought as enemies at the Trident,” Ser Barristan spoke as a squire fixed his cloak onto his shoulders.

“I’m glad we never met on the field, Ser Barristan. As is my wife, I don’t think the widow’s life would suit her,” Ned told him as they walked, keeping the _and neither would Cersei appreciate my death_ to himself.

“You’re too modest. I’ve seen you cut down a dozen great knights,” Barristan brought him out of his thoughts and Ned smiled, replying with a light “my father once told me you were the best he’d ever seen. I never knew the man to be wrong about matters of combat”

“He was a fine man, you father. What the Mad King did to him was a terrible crime”

Ned sighed then and nodded. He’d already heard these words too often, and insincere pleasantries meant nothing to him. He knew, however, that Ser Barristan was not merely trying to gain his favor and genuinely meant what he said, so Ned kept his disdain to himself, after all, he did have something to request of the older man.

“Ser Barristan, I’ve something to ask of you,” Ned started as they neared the King’s tent.

“Please, do not hesitate, Lord Stark”

“My younger son, Bran… he’s chosen his path in life, and he wants to be part of the Kingsguard. If you are not adverse to it, I would like for him to be your squire,” Ned couldn’t help the pride that leaked into his voice as he thought of his ten year old. It would do the boy good to be Ser Barristan’s squire and Ned couldn’t think of anyone better to mentor Bran in his journey to knighthood.

“Of course! It would be my pleasure to have young Brandon as my squire. I’ve already met the young man, and I can already tell he will grow to be a good man”

Ned laughed happily as he thanked Ser Barristan before entering the King’s tent. His joy was short lived though as he found the King terrorizing his own squire, who just so happened to be the brother of Janei Lannister, as he prepared to participate in the tourneys. Ned restrained another sigh as he thought back to his conversation with Cersei that morning, where she warned him exasperatedly about Robert’s sudden decision to enter the joust. As much as he tried to support his friend, Robert really was proving to be a disastrous ruler.

It’d taken less convincing than he’d expected for Robert to give up his plans, and just when Ned thought everything was in order and turned to leave, he heard Robert call for him again, “your son has not spent any time at all with my daughter, Ned. Am I to believe that he is opposed to their union?”

Ned’s mind raced for a moment as he thought of a way to get Robb out of this delicate situation, “no, your grace, he is not. He’s only been busy with his duties and studies. I’ll make sure he pays her a visit in the upcoming days”

With that, Ned left the tent and returned to his work.

* * *

“Do you know, you are a stupid, stupid boy”

Robb gaped, only to remember a moment later that he was an heir and could not act in such a way. He quickly closed his mouth before asking his father what he’d done to anger him so.

“Your little outburst with Lord Tywin has forced us to accept his proposal,” Ned told him quietly, a mixture of bitterness and irritation in his voice.

“What?! Why?!” Robb almost screamed, already furious with his father. He turned his gaze across the field to see Lord Tywin seated on the other side, scornfully watching the ruckus.

“Did you for one moment think that you could outright offend a lord with as much power as Tywin Lannister and get away with it?” Ned asked, making sure no one else could hear them.

Robb looked around, amazed at the fact that no one payed them any attention. He wondered if his father had perfected that skill from years of speaking to his mother right under everyone’s noses without anyone being any wiser about their affair.

“He slighted you when he denied you Mother’s hand!”

“Lower your voice or you’ll have us exposed. Yes, he denied me your mother’s hand in marriage, but he, as a father and lord, still retains that right. Do you think that I would grant your sisters’ hands to men I do not believe worthy of them? Granted, your grandfather and I have widely different standards, but that does not deny him his right. Your actions have put me in a situation where I could barely set any conditions to the arrangement”

“You said you wanted a loving marriage for me,” Robb replied, accusation clear in his voice.

Ned raised his voice slightly as he watched Sers Gregor and Hugh appear before the King, “where’s Bran?”

Robb cocked an eyebrow but understood fairly quickly what his father was aiming at, he wasn’t a son of lions and wolves for no reason after all, “off on some errand for Ser Barristan. He’s taking his position as squire quite seriously”

“That’s my boy,” Ned smiled, before lowering his voice again to continue their discussion, “I did say I wanted a marriage of love for you and your siblings, but that never excluded marriages I chose for you, and you were the one who forced me to accept the proposal. For your sake, though, I hope you grow to love the girl”

Robb clenched his teeth, “I know Lord Tywin’s conditions. What are yours?”

“That even if we manage to break your current betrothal soon, we will wait until the girl turns four and ten to formalize it, and you shall wed her when she is seven and ten. That your second son shall live his first five years with you before he is taken to the Rock. And that we strengthen our trade bonds with the West”

“Does it not matter that she is my cousin?” Robb sighed, already feeling drained at the thought of what his future would look like. He tried to imagine a young blonde with bright green eyes, looking much like Mother and Myrcella but with harsh eyes like Tywin’s. He tried to imagine wedding her and taking her home to Winterfell. He tried to imagine the disgust she would hold for his cold home after living in Casterly Rock. He tried to imagine saying goodbye to his five year old son, one with green eyes and gold hair, as he was sent to the West. He tried to imagine a man with gold hair and eyes as cruel as Tywin’s call him father.

“She is your cousin once removed. Lord Tywin was married to his own cousin. We might frown upon it, but the West sees no wrong with it”

In front of them, someone screamed as Ser Gregor cut off his horse’s head and proceeded to attack Ser Loras. Shrieks and gasps filled the area as the Hound jumped off the royals’ platform and proceeded to duel with the Mountain. Robb noticed Prince Joffrey rising to his feet, watching with open enthusiasm, and felt his stomach flip uncomfortably. As he held down his bile, Robb wondered again how he could be related to such a person.

Robb waited for the chaos to settle down, then turned to his father, “have you decided on what shall be done about Myrcella?”

“Yes, the King wants you to spend time with her. You and the Queen will meet her, and tell her the truth together”

* * *

Cersei opened her eyes to an offending knock on her door. She sighed and raised her head, calling softly for whomever it was to enter. He entered without looking in her direction, closing the door behind him before finally turning to look at her.

“Oh! Forgive me, my lady, I thought you were decent”

Cersei watched him, amusement glittering in her green eyes, from her place in the bath. She watched as he turned his back to her, attempting to give her some privacy.

“Please, Ned, its not like you haven’t seen and kissed every part of my body by now. Come, speak to me, what have you decided?”

Ned turned around hesitantly, approaching her as if he were reconsidering it the entire time, and pulled a chair with him. When he was sat beside her at last, he sighed and placed his head in his hands, “we have to go. I’m sorry, Cersei, I really am, but we have to go. Robert will not be kind to us after what I’ve done”

Cersei nodded, knowing already that that was the outcome her lover would come up with. She frowned slightly, “at least wait until the morrow comes”

“Cersei,” Ned started, but she cut him off, “please, Ned, let me have one final day with my son before you leave. Robert is already on his hunting trip with Joffrey. If he wanted you imprisoned, he’d have already sent word. Grant me this, and meet Tommen meanwhile”

Ned turned his gaze away from her imploring emerald eyes, which he so desperately loved. He stared outside the window at the full moon, so high in the sky. In the distance, he could hear his sons’ direwolves howling. It was late, so late not even her handmaidens were awake.

He felt her reach for him, her soft hand fitting nicely in his own calloused one.

“Join me”

He turned to her, a look of pure shock on his face. He took a moment to process what she’d said, then protests immediately started forming on his lips.

“None of that, Ned Stark. I’m not asking you to bed me. I’m asking you to hold me. Just a friendly cuddle. Comfort me before you leave again and take my son with you”

Slowly, Ned found himself taking off piece after piece of his clothing, placing them neatly on the chair. She made room for him behind her, and he slowly sunk into the warm water, legs on either side of her. He settled his back against the tub and wrapped his arms gently around his lover once her back was comfortably rested against his chest. He laid his head on her shoulder, breathing her scent in deeply, trying to commit it to memory.

They sat in comfortable silence for some time, not needing any words between them, until Cersei let out a beautiful laugh. Ned raised his head from her shoulders, questioning her with his eyes only.

She smiled softly and raised a hand to caress his cheek gently, “it just feels good to know that I can still draw forth a reaction from the Quiet Wolf”

She watched him as he turned a shade of red as deep as his wife’s hair. Her smile widened and she turned to watch the window, melting more into his embrace. After some time, he placed a soft kiss to her shoulder and whispered a quiet, “I’ll wait until the morrow comes”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Robb just discovered Newton's Third Law: every action has an equal and opposite reaction... ok, bad joke, I'm sorry, I just finished physics, I'm sorry... Anyways, bad joke notwithstanding, all R&Rs welcome and appreciated :)


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooohhh look at that, vacation is doing me so good I got another chapter out in a day. Anyways, enjoy :)

“Ned!”

Ned had been on his way to the stables to make sure everything was ready for him and the boys, when he was stopped. He turned towards the direction the shout had come from to see Renly Baratheon’s panicked face. Ned clenched his jaw, this was bad. He had planned to leave before Robert returned, but now it was too late. He had to hurry.

“Renly? You’re back? Fuck, I’m too late. I apologize, Renly, but I need to get my sons and leave”

“There will be no leaving, Ned! It’s Joffrey!”

Ned stopped in his tracks and turned again towards Renly. His eyebrows furrowed and confusion laced his tone, “What?”

Whatever could the prince want with him?

“We were hunting… a boar…”

Renly shook his head as his wild eyes darted everywhere, anxiety distorting his usually smirking face. Ned studied the man and hurried after him when he mentioned for him to do so. Upon reaching the crown prince’s room, Ned was greeted with a sight he had never wanted to see again. Cersei was crying desperately as she sat beside her child on his bed. Ned could not see Joffrey, but he had a clear view of Robert, who was heavily leaning on the nearby wall. Maester Pycelle soundlessly left the room when he saw Ned, a grave look on his face.

Ned slowly walked deeper into the room until he was standing next to Robert, who leaned on him instead of the wall then.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, making sure not to disturb mother and son.

“He was walking behind us and whining. I wasn’t paying attention to him. I told the Hound to come speak to me, I don’t remember about what. The boar came out of nowhere and attacked Joffrey, got him in the stomach. I jumped in to save him and got stabbed in the leg. I got it real good though, stabbed it in the head. The Hound rode back with him and called for the Maester”

“Jumped in to save him, or to claim another kill?” Cersei interrupted, a mixture of grief and hate in her voice.

“Hold your tongue, woman,” the warning was clear as day in Robert’s voice.

Ned’s jaw clenched, this was not going to end well.

Cersei stood and turned towards Robert in a flurry of anger, looking very much like an avenging angel. She stared down Robert, and Ned could already see the loathing in her eyes as her lips parted and her harsh words once again made an appearance, “I took you for a king, but you wouldn’t even save your son. I should wear the armor, and you the gown”

Ned had not even had the chance to blink before Robert had pushed himself off him and his palm connected with Cersei’s face with enough force to make her head turn. Ned balled his fists tightly, barely restraining himself from attacking Robert. He watched Cersei instead, trying to make sure she was alright without drawing attention to himself. When she turned her head towards them again, his eyes connected with hers briefly and he could see all their arguments over Robert reflected in them. He couldn’t help but agree with her at that moment. Robert was no king, and he was not the man he once was.

He listened as Robert threatened the Queen some more before being interrupted by Joffrey pitifully calling for his mother from his place in the bed. Robert motioned for Ned to help him walk out of the room, and Ned found himself unable to release the tight fists his hands had become, and instead walked stiffly to Robert’s side, allowing the larger man to lean on his shoulders as they left.

His eyes flicked to Cersei one final time, and he promised himself he would not allow any more harm to come to her.

Once they were out of the Prince’s room, Ned motioned for Jory to come closer to him and whispered in his ear, making sure the King could not hear them, “tell Robb to send a raven to his mother. He’ll know what to write”

With that, Ned helped the King to his rooms, all the while trying his hardest not to snap at him for badmouthing Cersei on the way.

* * *

Robb entered the crown prince’s bedchambers in a flash of worry and fear.

“Mother!” he called the moment he laid eyes on her, rushing to her side and taking great care to assess the state of her face. His mother’s eyes were swollen and red, evidence of the amount of tears she shed for her dying son. She looked paler than usual, all life leaving her in the face of her anguish. None of it concerned him as much as the black bruise on her cheek, though, and Robb found himself tensing as he held himself back from marching over to the King’s chambers and returning the favor. Robb settled for reaching for the balm he had brought with him and rubbing it onto her cheek gently.

He glanced towards the crown Prince to see his sleeping face, and guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. Joffrey may have been a cruel arsehole, but he was his little brother, and Robb had not treated him well even once. He turned back to his mother and saw the tears resurface in her eyes as she watched her two boys. Robb pulled her into a tight embrace, allowing her to bury her face in the nape of his neck and cry. He placed a soft kiss on her temple and thought of ways he could avenge his mother.

* * *

Ned had just arrived in his tower when his solar door was swung open and a furious Jaime walked in. Ned had turned to him with a tired stare, only for Jaime to draw his sword and scream at him, “you fucking coward!”

Ned glared at him wearily, trying to figure out a way to calm Jaime without fighting him. This was no time for Jaime to act rashly, and Ned knew it. It seemed Jaime didn’t though.

“You stood there and watched as that cunt hit her and did nothing!”

“Calm yourself, Jaime. There was nothing I could do without giving everything away and suffering even worse consequences”

“You should have just slain him then and there!”

Ned drew his sword at the last second, blocking Jaime’s lunge and returning an attack of his own. He noticed some of his men flood the solar at the commotion and screamed in their direction while blocking another of Jaime’s attacks, “do not interfere!”

Ned finally found an opening, throwing an attack of his own, only for Jaime to block and roll his arm away, aiming another strike towards Ned’s shoulder. Ned ducked, spinning behind Jaime and pushing him away. Jaime grunted as his breath left his lungs, but took no longer than a moment to turn towards Ned again and aim another hit to his middle. Ned blocked with ease, and tried to push Jaime again. Jaime expected it this time and pulled away, aiming his sword at Ned, who had bumped into his desk. Ned took a glimpse at the desk then at Jaime, he was cornered and Jaime looked hell bent on killing him.

Ned breathed hard and clenched his jaw as he thought on what to do. He had to disarm Jaime and fast, for he could not harm the younger man. Cersei would never forgive him if he did, and especially not in her current state. Ned’s eyes flicked around the room, trying to decide on what to do, but before he could do so, Jaime lunged at him with an overhead blow.

Ned blocked it with ease, only to find another swat coming his way. He blocked that too, and soon realized he would mostly be obstructing Jaime's attacks as he did not show any openings. When Ned finally found one, he lunged back at Jaime, but found Jaime swiveling out of the way and ducking, throwing a hit right above the back of his knee.

Ned screamed as he dropped to the ground. He had been too late to block, and the wound was deep. Jaime stood to the side and raised his sword defensively as Ned’s men moved to interfere.

“Get up, Stark!”

Ned tried, but found himself unable to. He saw one of his bannermen attempt to draw his sword, and Ned forced himself to unclench his teeth to speak, “let him go”

His bannerman did not move and Jaime looked unsure of himself, so Ned screamed as loud as he could at the moment, “I said let him go!”

When Jaime had finally rushed out of the room, Ned let himself drop completely and the darkness engulf him. The last thing he noticed was Jory rushing to his side. He could not draw the strength to ask why Jory was no longer with his son.

* * *

The first thing Ned noticed as his eyes opened was that it was too bright. His vision came in and out of focus as he blinked to stop the blur. The second thing he noticed was that he was not alone in the room, but try as he may, he could not decipher who the man in his chambers was with his unclear gaze. The third thing Ned noticed was that his knee and head hurt.

“Ah, you’re finally up, I see, Lord Stark”

Ned knew that voice. He blinked some more, and finally – finally! – was able to see properly.

Tywin Lannister was stood in front of his bed, staring down at him with what seemed like a contemplative scowl.

“What happened after…” Ned rasped, he could not finish his sentence, he needed water.

Tywin did not reply, Instead, he walked towards the door and let someone come in. Ned shortly discovered it was Maester Pycelle when his wrinkly hands passed him a cup of water. Ned made quick work of drowning his thirst as the older man cleaned and wrapped his wound again.

Tywin at last spoke once Pycelle had left the room, “Jaime has left King’s Landing on my orders. We are now equal when it comes to our sons offending the other. Cersei and all her children are with Joffrey. His condition has worsened, and he is not likely to survive the night. Young Lord Stark has taken to his duties as heir admirably. He’s commanded your men with a strong hand while you rested. He has refused to inform his younger brother of the situation though”

Ned could hear the disapproval in Tywin’s voice at the last part, but chose to ignore it in favor of asking where his son currently was. It did not sit well with him that his son would leave him in his vulnerable state alone with Tywin.

“Lord Robb has been called by Cersei to say his final farewells to Joffrey. It took some convincing to make him leave you, and he only did after having Cassel stand guard at the door and thoroughly inspect me before letting me in”

Ned nodded and closed his eyes again. He wanted to rest, but he needed to get up and go about his duties and check on his sons. He needed to see what Robert has done as he rested. He needed to see how Cersei was fairing. He needed to…

“Here,” Tywin said as he threw something next to him on the bed. Ned looked beside him to see the Hand’s pin.

“Robert is adamant that you return to your duties. He tried to cancel the assassination of the Targaryen girl, but Lord Varys has informed us that it is too late. It seems our King is as bad at listening to his Hand as the Mad King was”

Ned frowned as he reached for the brooch, stroking it between his fingers before turning to stare at the conspirator lord, “why not take the position for yourself?”

“Believe me, if I could, I would, but Robert has very publicly announced that his Hand will either be you or Lord Renly Baratheon…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it for now. As always, all R&Rs welcome, and thanks to everyone who already did. Hopefully, we'll see each other again soon...


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have one of your questions answered... anyways, I'm pretty sure I should include archive warnings now, sooo, better safe than sorry, I guess...

Cersei watched with teary eyes as the servants went about prepping her son for his funeral. Joffrey was washed and dressed in his finest clothes so that the maesters might take him shortly.

His beautiful green eyes, so like hers and his father’s, had closed as he rested, promising her before that he would have the Hound executed for not protecting him. But as he slept, his last breath left his body, and took all of Cersei’s happiness with it.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Cersei remembered an old servant once saying that parents should never say goodbye to their children, that children should be destined to do so, that it was a cruel trick of the gods when it happened the other way around. Cersei had been a young girl when she heard it, not even pregnant with Robb then, and had dismissed it as the folly and weakness of servants. And yet, it was Cersei herself who had now let go of not one, but two of her children.

She could not stop her tears then as the thought of never speaking to her son again struck her.

Across the castle, Ned Stark was heavily leaning on his cane as he walked with the help of his eldest son towards the King’s rooms, where he was summoned. Ned struggled to make his way and breathed hard, deciding to lean on the wall and take a break when he was halfway there. He could not bear, in his weakened state, to look into his son’s concerned gaze, and so focused on the messenger coming their way.

Ned quickly decided he did not like what the messenger had come to say when he found out that the King too had worsened. As he dismissed the messenger, he did not miss the light smirk that played on Robb’s lips no matter how much the boy tried to hold it back.

Ned waited with bated breath until they were completely alone in the hall to break his silence, “what have you done?!”

“I’ve done nothing,” Robb replied, words dripping colder than Winterfell’s winters.

“But you didn’t stop it,” Ned growled.

“No, I didn’t. And you should be happy, or at least relieved,” Robb bit back and, for the first time, Ned truly did not know what his son was thinking.

“He was my friend and your king!” Ned exclaimed, frustration clear as day on his face.

“He was no king of mine! You were the one who taught me that a true man does not hit his lady wife! And he should have stopped being your friend the moment his hand connected with my mother’s face!”

Ned clenched his teeth angrily, his son was as stubborn as his mother and as ruthless as her father sometimes. How was he to explain to his son that most, if not all, men struck their wives, when he himself had set a high precedent for his sons?

“You speak of treason! You know many men hit their wives,” Ned tried futilely.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that Ser Gregor is a most honorable knight. And you speak of treason as if it is an unimaginable concept, not one you know intimately,” Robb’s tongue might have held mockery, but his eyes held fire.

Father and son stood in silence, the first a grave look on his face and the second seething. His son’s anger would not deter Ned from delivering a final lecture though. It was Ned’s duty as the younger’s father to bestow on him the lessons life had taught him. At that moment though, Ned found he could not teach Robb, just express his disappointment, “I did not raise you seventeen years in the North, away from the snakes of King’s Landing, for you to become even worse than them. I may have stains on my honor, but the gods know that I tried my best to teach you otherwise. What you’ve done is worse than anything I’ve ever done, and I only hope and pray that you open your eyes and stop being foolish just because you crave love that you’ve always had”

With that, Ned pushed himself off the wall and, depending entirely on his cane, slowly but surely made his way to the King’s chambers, leaving his son in a shellshocked state behind him.

Soon enough, Ned found that the King’s leg wound was “infected” and that the King was suffering a high fever of which he was not likely to survive.

As Ned suppressed all his guilt, he wrote down the King’s will, which, to Ned’s greatest discomfort, named him the Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm until young Tommen “Baratheon” was of age.

Ned found himself smothering the urge to scream as Robert reached out to him with his final breaths and spoke in a voice most imploring, “I never loved my brothers. Sad thing for a man to admit, but it’s true. You were the brother I chose. My son, help him, Ned. Make him better than me. I’ve seen what you did with Robb and Brandon. Do the same for Tommen”

* * *

“Oh! Hello, Prince Tommen. What are you doing here?” Bran asked gently as he entered his bedroom. When Ser Barristan had asked him to help in the search for the little prince, Bran hadn’t actually expected the younger boy would be in his room, but it seemed he was wrong.

“Everyone is searching for me and I just want to be left alone,” Tommen gave by way of explanation.

Bran closed the door as he entered the room. He studied the boy’s slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, and suddenly Bran felt pity and sorrow for the prince. Everyone was searching for him and had expectations for him now that he was the crown prince, but no one took into consideration that it took his father’s and brother’s death for that. He thought of what Robb felt like losing a brother so quickly after finding him but buried it as he watched the child in front of him.

Bran slowly approached the boy and took a seat next to him on the bed, he laid a gentle arm around his shoulders and tried to pull him into a hug the way his own mother would do him when he was upset. He was only slightly stunned when the other boy swiftly melted into his arms and started crying. Bran, himself, suppressed the urge to cry as he recalled memories of his own mother, so kind and loving.

When the prince’s sobs had finally calmed to quiet sniffles, Bran pulled away from the embrace and looked into his eyes, brushing away his tears tenderly. He recalled memories of his fire-haired mother listening to him as he told her of what distressed him and tried to imitate her soft voice as he asked, “what’s wrong? Are you sad for King Robert and Prince Joffrey?”

To Bran’s surprise, the little prince shook his head, his hair flying everywhere as he pouted and spoke in a hushed tone, as if what he was about to say would get him punished, “Father never speaks to me. Once every few moons, he screams at me when I do something wrong, then he calls for the servants to take me away. And Joffrey is not a good brother. He’s not like Robb or you. I wish you and Robb were my brothers instead”

Bran stared wide eyed at the younger boy, reminding himself that he could not tell the prince that Robb was, in fact, his brother, for that would surely get his own father into trouble.

Bran settled for asking again what bothered the little prince so much, to which he received the most heart-breaking reply he had heard in his young life, “I don’t want to be king. I don’t want to be like Father or Joffrey. Mother says Joffrey is the way he is because he is supposed to be king. I don’t want to be mean like Joffrey. But I also don’t want to make Mother upset if I’m not good enough”

Silence fell between the two boys, the older contemplating on how to proceed, and the younger taking comfort in the stillness of being away from the throne and its expectations. It took more than a few moments for the Stark son to come up with a speech to soothe the Baratheon prince, all the while thinking of his own mother so far away. At last, he recalled a memory of his mother tending to one of his injuries with the care only a mother could show, and he knew what he had to say.

“Do you know, Prince Tommen, when I was back at Winterfell, my mother was always against my climbing. Every time she found out, she would make me promise to not do it again, but I would just go back out the next day and climb another part of the castle. Sometimes, I would get hurt while climbing. When that happened, Mother would always tend to my wound and tell me she loved me, even though she didn’t want me to climb. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Prince Tommen?”

Tommen shook his head, a pout forming on his pink lips as he stared wide eyed at the older boy, waiting for him to elaborate. Finally, Bran continued, voice full of promise, “I’m trying to tell you that no matter how much they might not like what we do, our mothers will still love us and care for us when we need it”

“But how can you be sure?” Tommen sniffled, still not fully convinced.

“Because they’re mothers. What else would they do if they didn’t love us? Now, are you ready to go back outside? Queen Cersei has been very worried with you gone,” Bran stood from his bed, reaching out for the younger boy.

Tommen nodded silently, holding onto Bran’s hand tightly as they left the latter’s room and headed towards the dining hall, where Cersei had been despairing ever since she was told to wait while the Kingsguard and the servants searched the castle for the little prince.

When they finally reached the dining hall, Bran watched as Tommen rushed to his mother’s arms with a cry of “Mother!” and as the Queen let out a hysterical sob upon finally having her son back. Bran watched as gold met gold and as knights flooded the room. He watched as his own father limped in with an anxious look on his face and as Robb walked in with tense shoulders. He watched as Ser Barristan made his way towards him and couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as the older man put an encouraging hand on his shoulder and whispered words of praise.

Everything will be alright, it just had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a depressing chapter. Yeah, I miss my mom, and my dad... I just hope quarantine can end soon... Anyways, I feel like Ned is really in denial over everything, or just doesn't want to accept the fact that Robert is not the man he once knew. So, let's see where I go with this, cuz I don't even know myself O.O


	10. 10

“Renly has left for the south with fifty retainers and Littlefinger is conspiring against the throne”

Ned’s head jerked up as he gaped at the intruder to his rooms. He did not know whether the sight before him astonished him or concerned him more. Cersei was standing in the middle of his chambers, the early morning sunlight reflecting off her golden mane as she stared him down with cold, green eyes.

“Cersei,” Ned started, worry clear in his voice, only to get interrupted by a remark full of anguish, “don’t, Ned. Let me do this. I could not protect Joff from Robert’s recklessness, but I sure as the Seven Hells can protect Tommen from the vipers of King’s Landing. I refuse to sit by and watch as Tommen is destroyed”

Ned took a number of careful steps towards her before gently pulling her into his arms. He waited for her to lay her head on his chest before he rested his own on top of hers, “I am not asking you to sit by and watch, and I will not allow anything to happen to Tommen. I merely want to make sure that you have taken enough time to confront your grief. It is not easy losing someone, and I cannot begin to imagine what it is like when that someone is your child. Joffrey’s funeral was only yesterday, and I do not want you to push yourself too much or regret not mourning for longer later”

He tightened his hold as he felt her take a shuddering breath, as if she was on the verge of sobbing. She buried her face in the area where his neck connected with his shoulders and clenched her fists around his clothes. He could feel her lips trembling on his skin and yet not a single tear fell from her eyes. Ned turned and placed a soft kiss to her temples, keeping his face there and closing his eyes as he waited for her to do something. He could barely conceal his shock when she pulled away, a moment later, with a cold look on her face, as if nothing had happened.

Not for the first time, Ned thought of how easy it would have been for him to believe she was as unfeeling as Tywin had he not known her as intimately as he did.

“I will take the time to grieve properly for Joffrey when Tommen is safe, but for now, Renly marches away, and Littlefinger is trying to play us”

Ned took a seat on his bed, rubbing his face agitatedly as he listened to the bells tolling outside, signaling the King’s death. He thought of the tricksters and actors of King’s Landing, and couldn’t help but think that his son deserved to inherit something better than a kingdom of schemers. With a sigh, he finally spoke his thoughts, “Tommen has no business sitting on that throne”

Cersei’s eyes flamed. Her shoulders tensed and her nose flared, and as she burned holes into Ned’s head with her gaze, she snarled, “you will not dare take my son’s right from him!”

Ned looked up at her, face aged years within the span of a few weeks, “it is not his right. But I will not take it from him. I would not risk his life or yours”

His reply did nothing to soothe the angry lioness, though, and another accusation tumbled out of her lips in the form of a question, “then why do you refuse to meet him?”

Ned studied her for a breath of a moment before deciding to bare his deepest most vulnerable thought, “I… was afraid… I did not think that I would be able to meet him and let him go… and Robert would not have taken too kindly to my interference had he still been alive… and I did not, do not, believe I could play an distant role in his life”

Cersei could not stop herself from softening at his reply even if she had wanted to. She moved to stand in front of Ned and pulled him into an embrace. Ned rested his head on her abdomen, gently wrapping his own arms around her waist. He would not admit it to anyone, but he loved having her embrace him in such a way. It comforted him in a way no other embrace ever would, and he knew that she knew.

“You do not have to play a distant role in Tommen’s life. Not now”

“Aye,” he breathed, “not now. I can be his father now, but Tommen is not like Robb. He did not grow up knowing that the parent who’s raising him is not in fact his. He lived eight years believing Robert is his sire, and I don’t know if he’ll appreciate me taking that role suddenly”

Cersei scowled and raised his chin gently. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, then combed her fingers through his hair as she spoke, “Ned, if Tommen had it in him, he’d hate Robert. Trust me, Tommen would love having you in his life”

Ned smiled reluctantly before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. He fixed his position so that he was leaning against the headboard with her laying on top of his chest. They sat in silence for a few moments, comfortable in each other’s embrace and needing it more than ever. Ned brushed his fingers through her hair, taking care not to mess up her updo.

“Tell me what you have planned for Littlefinger”

* * *

Ned watched as the very same soldiers that Littlefinger had brought in turned against him, arresting him to be executed within the upcoming days. Neither Maester Pycelle nor Lord Varys could hide their surprise at the turn of events, but Queen Cersei kept an indifferent air about her. Ned waved for some of his men to accompany the City Watch then turned back to the remaining Small Council members, “we shall hold a meeting tonight to discuss the matter of finding replacements for Lords Baratheon and Baelish, as well as prepare for the King’s burial, and speak on the manner the realm will be ruled these upcoming years”

With that, the Hand left the throne room, surrounded by men of the North as he made his way back to the Hand’s Tower. Once there, he found his eldest son’s chambers and knocked on the door, entering after receiving a call of permission. He found his son studying a book and motioned for him to leave it aside as he took a seat.

Ned was not in the mood to give introductions, and so he stared his son in the eye and spoke his orders calmly, “you will be packing your belongings tonight. Come the morrow, you will take twenty of our bannermen and you and Jon will climb aboard the ship I have rented for you and return to Winterfell”

Robb gaped for a moment, unable to respond to the revelation his father laid at his feet. His mouth opened and closed multiple times with no sound leaving his lips, until he finally managed to let out a disgruntled comment, “this is punishment for the situation with Robert Baratheon, is that it?! You would separate me from my mother again because I chose to protect her instead of the man who abused her?!”

Ned pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath before answering, “you are the heir of Winterfell. I brought you here to learn the ways of the South to aid you in your rule later. You have achieved what you came to accomplish. It is high time now that you return to Winterfell and learn to be its lord”

Robb did not miss the fact that Ned had not denied his accusations, and it set him on edge. How could his father choose the drunken King over their magnificent Queen?

He had no chance to respond, however, because his father was already limping out of the room, distant bells the only sound lingering in the air between them.

As the door closed behind him, Ned released a deep sigh, burying the part of him that was already feeling guilty over the pain his decision was going to bring both Cersei and Robb.

Resolving to focus on his current task, he walked slowly towards the training courtyard, where he found Prince Tommen practicing his sword fighting against his master at arms. Ned grinned as the boy managed to evade a number of hits and remain standing. His movements were stiff though, and Ned could not hide his amusement as he limped to a nearby bench and called out, “you should practice being more flexible. Dueling is elegant, like a dance. If you are too stiff on the battlefield, it won’t take too long for your opponent to defeat you”

“The Hand speaks true,” the master at arms told the young boy, eyes sparkling with mischief, and with that, he moved quickly and tripped the boy, making him land on his back. Tommen stood with a huff and scowled as he turned to look at Ned. He watched as his teacher introduced himself to the Hand of the King before nodding respectfully and leaving.

“Goodbye, Syrio,” Tommen waved to the man then took a reluctant seat next to the Protector of the Realm and spoke with a timid voice, “good afternoon, Lord Hand. What might I do for you today?”

Ned smiled gently and nudged the boy softly, “you’re a respectful little lad, aren’t you? There’s nothing I want of you. I’m here to meet you, Prince Tommen, because you and I will be spending a lot of time together from now on”

“Oh? How much time?” Tommen asked, poorly hiding the apprehensive curiosity he was feeling.

“Well, your father wanted me to prepare you to rule the realm and teach you everything I know, and that’ll take a long time,” some part of Ned felt ill knowing that the young prince would understand the word ‘father’ as Robert. He quieted down that voice by promising himself that he would tell Tommen the truth of his parentage one day.

“But if you spend all your time with me, when will you be able to spend time with Robb and Bran? I don’t want to be the reason they don’t see their father anymore”

The desperation in Tommen’s voice was enough to break Ned’s heart. His son truly did not know a father’s love and still would sacrifice it for the wellbeing of others. Ned laid a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder and spoke with a tone full of promise, “Robb is returning to Winterfell to be its lord, and Bran is a boy grown. He’s more concerned with being Ser Barristan’s squire. At the moment, you are the only one who needs and has my attention”

Tommen’s voice was full of hope then, “truly, Lord Stark?”

“Truly. No matter what happens, you will always have me and your mother”

The oddness of the Hand’s claim did not strike the little prince then, for he was lost in the overwhelming joy of having someone care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanna tell y'all ahead that I'm planning to take a little break from this story, just a week or two, because it's the holidays and I want to spend that time with my family, you know? Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter and this short hiatus doesn't bother you too much.


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm baAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAacckk... and so is my summer trimester. Anyways, that doesn't matter, what matters is the upcoming events, so I hope you enjoy them :)  
> Also, is it weird that I wrote the epilogue to this story without even knowing what I want to do with it?

Ned paced the length of the crown prince’s chambers as he reread the letter in his hand. He stopped to glimpse his son’s sleeping form, huddled next to his likewise sleeping mother. The little prince had had a terrible nightmare of war and fire raining from the heavens.

Bran, his other young boy, slept fitfully in another close by room. He, too, had had night terrors, but his were of the Wall and Benjen.

What had Ned so concerned, though, was the letter in his hand and the moment both boys had woken up with a similar story on their lips.

Ned stared at the letter once again, willing the words to change with his mind. He sighed when they didn’t and finally decided to wake Cersei.

She stared bleary eyed at him, blinking until her vision cleared, then finally asked him with a concerned voice about what had him so agitated. He handed her the letter with a tight lipped frown marring his face. She raised a questioning eyebrow and took it, quickly going over its contents.

“Father,

I am writing to you from Moat Cailin to confirm what you already know. The ship we were on ran into some issues and we were forced to stop at Gulltown. Upon entering the Eyrie, however, we were attacked by the knights of the Vale, and Lord Tyrion was taken hostage. Apparently, he is to answer for the death of Lord Jon Arryn. No harm has come to me, Jon, or any Northernman.

We shall be riding for Winterfell on the morrow. I fear this raven shan’t reach you until we arrive there. They do not have particularly quick birds. I await your reply still.

Signed,

Robb Stark”

Cersei stared at the date then returned the letter to him, indicating he should burn it, “it appears news was reaching him at a slow pace. It had already been a sennight since Father and Jaime marched when he wrote this. It’s been another sennight, he should be in Winterfell now. Your maester should be informing him about everything that happened during the past fortnight”

Ned frowned. Cersei had not noticed what he had, perhaps it was because she still refuses to speak to Bran for any length of time. Ned knew he had to tell her, though, “Cersei, that’s not what has me worried. Do you remember last sennight when Tommen woke and said his older brother was finally safe and that he would write now? I know you passed it off as him trying to move on from Prince Joffrey's passing, but the events line up with Robb. And Bran told me that Robb had arrived in the North that same night. There’s something even more powerful than war at play here”

Ned watched as Cersei’s beautiful face morphed into a glare of disbelief, “are you trying to tell me that the dreams of little boys somehow affect our true lives?”

Ned sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “no, Cersei, I’m trying to tell you that the boys might not be dreaming. Listen to me, Cersei, the last deserter I executed before coming here died with words of White Walkers on his lips. Benjen tells me he wasn’t gullible. Bran now dreams of the undead and the Long Night. And Tommen… Tommen has been having night terrors of fire raining from the heavens for weeks now, and yesterday Lord Varys tells us that there are rumors of Daenerys Stormborn birthing dragons. Cersei, how do you not see what I see?”

Cersei held back the urge to roll her eyes as she approached Ned’s standing figure. She ran her hands up his chest and massaged his tense shoulders, “Brandon dreams of the stories his nursemaid told him, just as Tommen has night terrors of the war we are currently fighting. The deserter spoke of lies to try and save himself, and the last dragons have been gone for centuries. There is nothing to worry about, darling, except for Renly and the traitorous Tyrells. Robb should be back in Winterfell now. Anytime soon, a raven should arrive informing us of such, and then he’ll have the North raise its banners to protect the rightful heir to the throne, his brother, your son”

Ned shook his head, he did not know how to prove to Cersei what he already knew.

* * *

“Lord Robb, it is a great pleasure to finally have you back. We’ve been expecting you for a fortnight now”

Robb smiled as he listened to Maester Luwin while he held onto Rickon and Jon hugged Arya. Sansa stood to the side, scowling slightly at her younger siblings’ actions but also trying her best not to do the same. Lady Stark stood next to her, a frown marring her face. Robb’s eyes connected with hers and he wondered once more how his father chose the plain Lady Stark over his magnificent mother. He chose to ignore her and embrace his younger sister, smiling even more when Sansa immediately bombarded him with questions about King’s Landing.

“I’ll answer all your questions later, I promise, but right now, I need to speak to Maester Luwin,” he kissed her cheek then left for his father’s old solar, making sure to greet Lady Stark politely before to prevent any rumors.

Robb entered the solar and breathed a sigh as he thought of all the lessons his father had given him in this room. It was his solar now that he was to rule Winterfell while his father governed the realm for Tommen then helped the boy rule it. Robb couldn’t prevent his smile when he thought of his younger brother, the boy might have the Lannister look, but he was a Stark through and through. Robb inhaled deeply and took a seat, turning to Maester Luwin to hear about everything that happened during the previous fortnight as he wrote a quick letter for his father. Robb called for a servant to send the fastest raven with his letter then turned to Maester Luwin, “the Lannisters are spread pretty thin with their forces fighting both the Eyrie and the Tyrell’s False King. Stannis Baratheon’s forces will not be enough by themselves to destroy Renly Baratheon. Send for our bannermen, we ride in a sennight. We must help safeguard Prince Tommen’s throne for him”

“A commendable decision, Lord Robb. Your father would have done the same. Although I fear you would have no support during this war as Lady Stark’s Tully connections would not mobilize with the Lannisters going into battle against the Arryns”

Robb stared at the older man with a grim look on his face, “I do not need the Tully forces for now”

Maester Luwin nodded and rose to perform his duties when Robb stopped him with another request, “will you find mine and Jon’s old master at arms? I want him to start teaching Arya”

Surprise washed over Luwin, who needed a moment to collect his thoughts and reply, “Lady Stark will not be pleased”

“Lady Stark will have no say in this matter, and her displeasure is the least of my worries at the moment,” Robb’s voice hardened. If neither he nor any of his brothers could be around to protect his sister, then he will ensure she was able to do so herself.

Robb allowed himself a moment to release his tension before he called for another meeting. He rested his eyes until he heard the knock on his door, righting himself as two men and a boy entered the solar and took seats. Robb observed them for a moment, his mind working quickly, until he settled on what he wanted to do.

He turned to the tall blue eyed man and the plump dark haired boy first, “Gendry, Hot Pie, you were both headed to the Wall, forced by circumstances out of your hands. I realize it must have been rough and that accompanying us has come with much anxiety. Don’t worry, I plan to give you the choice you were robbed of. If you still want to continue to the Wall, then that will be your choice, but you are both talented in your respective fields and I’d like to offer you a place here. I shall be marching off to war soon. Gendry, we will need weaponry. If you choose to stay then I shall require you march with me and help our own blacksmith. I know you wish to learn how to duel, I will grant you these lessons and even a knighthood should you choose it in return. Hot Pie, you are but a young boy, which is why I shall not require you march with me unless you decide to do so. If you find that war is too exciting for you, then I shall have you work in the kitchens here while I take some of the servants. I await you decisions, but keep in mind that I march in a sennight”

The two boys looked at each other then at Robb again. Robb resisted the urge to grin, the boys did not need time to think. Hot Pie was the first to speak, “can I bake whatever I want in the castle’s kitchens?”

Robb smiled, amusement shining in his eyes, “as long as there hasn’t been a direct request for something else then aye”

Hot Pie grinned as he quickly accepted Robb’s offer. He waited with baited breath for Gendry’s choice and couldn’t help smiling even more when Gendry too agreed.

Robb nodded and welcomed both boys to Winterfell before he wrote a quick note for Maester Luwin informing him of what had transpired and asking him to find chambers for them. He dismissed them then and waited for them to leave before he turned to Jon, “this will anger you, I know, but I still need to ask it of you”

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed as he waited for his brother to speak again. Robb allowed himself a moment of weakness in front of his brother and sighed as he rubbed his face, “listen to me, Father and Bran have only thirty men with them in King’s Landing. That is nowhere near enough to protect them, and the knights of King’s Landing have neither seen true war nor are they sworn to protect Father. I plan to send him a hundred and twenty men and I need you to command them until they reach Father”

Robb watched as multiple different emotions crossed his brother’s face before his nose flared as he consented. Jon would not forgive him immediately for pushing him away from the war, but Robb needed his family protected and it would do Jon good to command men like a Stark instead of following along like Ned Stark’s bastard.

Jon rose to storm off but Robb stopped him at the door, “one more thing, Jon. Sansa will be going with you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who would've though that that would happen? Because I didn't.  
> Also, before anyone asks, I left the way Yoren dies and how Gendry and Hot Pie stumble into Robb and Jon up to y'all, so do with it what you want :)


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realized that with that five week time skip things got a little confusing, so I'm just going to write a quick timeline here. You can skip it if you want to, but it'll make things a little clearer.
> 
> Week 1: Robb, Jon, and Tyrion leave King's Landing via ship that is headed to White Harbor. Renly marches to Highgarden. Littlefinger is detained.  
> Week 2: Ship sets in Gulltown. Tyrion is taken hostage, Robb and Jon leave for the North. Littlefinger is executed for treason. Stannis is the new Master of Laws.  
> Week 3: News of Tyrion's status reaches the South. Ned sends for Tyrion's release, Lysa refuses, Tywin and Jaime march to the Eyrie.  
> Week 4: Robb and Jon reach Moat Cailin and send for Ned. Renly declared himself king.  
> Week 5: Tywin and Jaime manage to siege the path to the Bloody Gate. Robb and Jon reach Winterfell. Robb calls for the banners.  
> Week 6: The North marches.
> 
> So, the story picks up somewhere along the end of week 5. Tywin and Jaime have already started the siege on the Eyrie, but Robb and Jon have just reached Winterfell. Anyways, without further ado, chapter 12...

“How dare you?! You have not even been back for a full day! Do you really think you could just take control of Winterfell?! I am its Lady! I have a right to manage it and my daughters!”

Robb did not allow himself either the sigh or the eye roll he wanted as he raised his head from the letters on his father’s… no, his own desk. He was in his solar, going over all the preparations that needed to be made before they marched to war. He had not allowed himself more than a night to rest either. Looking at Lady Stark now, it was easy to assume that she had just known of Arya’s lessons. After all, the little girl had barely left the solar after coming to thank him ferociously.

Robb indicated for Lady Stark that she should close the door and take a seat, which he knew only served to anger her more, but Robb knew his real mother now, and he had learned much from her, and he would never bow to the old Lady Stark again. He refused to think about who the new Lady Stark would be.

“I see something has you upset, my lady. What may it be?” he spoke with a cool voice, knowing it would frustrate her even more. He watched as her nose flared and her lips pursed. Lady Stark was not as good as his mother in displaying a cold unmoved expression.

“How dare you take his solar as yours and order Winterfell about as if it does not have a lady?! How dare you decide to take my first daughter away and interfere in how I raise my second and give her lessons not meant for a lady?! How dare you raise the banners without consulting with the proper persons?!”

Robb nodded once when she was done with her rant, finally allowing himself one expression, he cocked an eyebrow and made sure to speak with a clear voice, “you misunderstand, Lady Stark, I do not dare. I do not dare because I need neither challenge someone nor have courage to have what is rightfully mine. Winterfell became mine by right the moment my Lord Father accepted his position as Hand of the King. It was by my choice that you continued to rule in Winterfell because I wanted to go South and meet my mother. And since I am now Lord of Winterfell, you are no longer its Lady, that position is for my lady wife. You are lucky that I do not have one yet, but you see, Lady Stark, any say you had in Winterfell that was not related to the managing of the castle itself was tied to my father. You are lucky yet, I intend to leave you to manage the North while I march to war, but that is only because you already have experience in doing so. It shall return to me the moment I return”

Robb paused, taking a moment to admire how his words took a hold on the woman in front of him and suffocated her. He recalled his father having mentioned that his mother would speak with words so harsh they would devastate those they were directed towards. He wondered for a moment if Cersei would be proud of him for how he handled Lady Stark. He could tell easily enough that she had never expected to suffer for the way she had treated him, his father had always been around to protect her after all.

Robb allowed himself to be a little smug as he spoke again, “I believe that there are only two issues remaining and they regard my sisters. I will say this only once, Lady Stark. My aunt Lyanna knew how to wield a sword and she was a lady great enough to have a king enamored with her for years. Arya will learn to wield a sword and you are not to interfere in the matter or discourage her in any way. As for Sansa, Father specifically requested she join him in King’s Landing before he sent me back. Now, if there is nothing more, my lady”

Robb did not finish his sentence, but it was clear enough that he was dismissing the woman. She huffed and stood, fuming as she walked out. Robb did not care much. She was but a slight inconvenience to him at the moment. He called for Hot Pie as he returned to his work. He did not trust Lady Stark, and he had to ensure she did not discourage Arya from her lessons. He would have the young boy spy for him and let him know if the older woman had not heeded his orders.

* * *

Jaime sighed as he watched his woman for the night slink out of his tent. He turned, standing in nothing but his briefs, to his father, reciprocating his exasperated glare with one of his own, “must you always ruin my fun?”

Tywin did not deign his question with an answer, choosing to give a short lecture instead, “get dressed. Your nephew has arrived in the North. He plans to march within a sennight. Why is it that your seven and ten year old nephew, barely a man, has a better ability to focus on what is important?”

Jaime rolled his eyes as he put on a shirt, it seemed his father was only there to tell him once more how much of a disappointment he was. He poured himself some wine and took a seat on a nearby stool once he was half dressed. His father had already taken over his desk and set up himself there. He waited for him to finish writing, it wouldn’t do him well to interrupt his father.

By the time Tywin spoke, Jaime had finished half of his second cup of wine, “it should be easier to negotiate safe passage through the Riverlands now that the North is marching with us. I shall be leaving soon enough to join your uncle Kevan in the war against that insolent Renly Baratheon. You are to lead this army now that I’ll be gone”

Jaime stared at his father, an empty look in his eyes. He wished more than anything to be back in King’s Landing, with all the whores and noble ladies he could wish for and with his golden armor protecting him. He hated the armor he was now in, hated the knowledge that Stark would probably find a way to release him from his vows now that he had marched against another lord, hated the fact that he would probably return to Casterly Rock now and finally be the heir as his father wanted. He blinked, only managing to let out a whisper, “you never told me why you brought five thousand men with you to King’s Landing, or how you managed to find another twenty five hundred to fight for you”

Tywin glared at him for a moment, of all the things his son could think about… Did he still not understand the power their house held? He clenched his teeth and spoke with a firm voice, “Jaime, listen to me. Lysa might believe that she is protected behind her Bloody Gate, but she does not realize that that gate is a hindrance now that we’ve blocked the path to it. My sources tell me that she spoils herself and her son. She has no experience or knowledge of battle. It shan’t be too long before her soldiers grow hungry and her knights grow weary, stuck behind that gate of theirs. Their best defense will be archers, and so will ours. Have the archers protected, they will be the ones to shoot down our enemies. You won’t be able to prevent all their communication but kill any raven you can. Whatever knowledge you can gain and prevent from them will be good”

Jaime furrowed his eyebrows, why couldn’t Lysa just send his brother back to them? His shoulders slumped and he nodded slightly. It was not enough for his father though, because he started admonishing him again, “Jaime, focus. The future of our family will be determined in these next few months. We could establish a dynasty that will last thousands of years, or we could collapse into nothing as the Targaryens did. I need you to become the man you were always meant to be, not next year, not tomorrow, now”

* * *

“Being King is not a game nor a pleasure, Tommen. Being king is a heavy duty, and you must be strong and contentious for it”

Tommen scowled, staring up at the Lord Protector with all the focus and thought of an eight year old, “but Grandfather says that I was lucky to be born a prince, and that I must be intelligent and rule with an iron fist”

Ned sighed and moved closer to the prince, he shook his head slightly, Cersei wanted Tywin to be the new Master of Coin, but Ned would not allow it. He needed that man as far away from his son, from the crown prince, as possible. He leveled his eyes with those of the young noble and spoke clearly, “Lord Tywin speaks of Targaryen kings, but do you know what these kings are called? Mad King Aerys, Maegor the Cruel, Aegon the Unworthy, Maekar the Anvil. Is that how you want to be remembered, Tommen?”

Young Tommen immediately shook his head as his green eyes widened drastically. He was a kind, gentle boy, and he shivered at the mere thought of being so vicious. Ned smiled slightly and nodded, he would toughen the boy, but first he would install in him the same sense of integrity he had in his elder sons.

When Ned spoke next, his voice was firm, allowing no room for argument, “you must heed Lord Tywin’s advice in one aspect, though. You must be intelligent. You must know how to help your kingdoms and support them, how to tell the liar from the truth speaker, how to plan ahead for what is to come. Tommen, you have the ability to change this realm for the better, and you must use it. The most important thing to remember is that being king does not mean you are better than everyone else, it means that you have an obligation and responsibility to your people”

“Does that include Uncle Renly and the Tyrells?”

“Yes, it does”

“Then why are they waging war against us? Will all my subjects do so? What is my duty towards them?”

Ned wished he could take away all the despair in the boy’s voice. No child should be that afraid. He cursed Renly in his head once again. He cursed him for the fear his son was experiencing, he cursed him for all the suffering that will be caused, he cursed him for all the deaths to come.

Ned frowned and placed a supportive hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Renly marches to war because the previous monarch did not inspire loyalty, and so Renly works for no one but himself. That is why Renly would not be a good king. But you, Tommen, if you are a good king, a fair king, then your people will love you and stand with you. And your duty to Renly and the Tyrells is to be just in your punishment towards them, be merciful, but not gullible”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reeeeeaaaaaally contemplating working with time skips (much shorter than this one) now, because most of the action will be on the frontiers and I don't really know much about war and military strategies. I don't know, I'll think about it later...


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I've pretty much left you all on read. I'm sorry. It's been a hectic time. You can skip this note if you want, there isn't anything that would affect the story.  
> Well, much has happened since the last chapter. My exam results came out, I managed to finally go back home, my great-grandmother passed away and I've gone through a major depressive episode that has pretty much resulted in a huge writer's block. I'm still not that happy with this chapter but I honestly don't know when this whole period of creative emptiness will blow over and I don't want to leave you guys hanging. The good news is that back when I was feeling more myself, I had managed to write a number of one-shots and the epilogue to this story, it just needs a little editing. I don't want to bore you before you read the chapter so I'll go into details about it in the note at the end.  
> Much love and thanks,  
> Polaris

The raging feast turned to a quiet night as the soldiers and bannermen of the North settled down to rest. It would not be long before they marched for war now, and that fact had allowed for a serious despondency to settle between them. Their Liege Lord paced anxiously in his solar, his brother trying to calm him as they themselves tried to quell their fear.

In the opposite side of the castle, a young lady, clad in nothing but her nightgown, made way to her mother’s chambers. The silence of the night was interrupted as she knocked on the heavy doors and pushed them softly once she heard a welcome. She walked in and took a seat in front of the vanity.

“Mother, will you brush my hair for me?” she asked.

It was an excuse, both mother and daughter knew it was. Her hair was already soft and knot free. It was the younger sister who needed to have her hair groomed, and yet the younger sister was not present. It did not matter, though, because the mother reached for the brush in her daughter’s hand and started tending to the girl’s bright red hair, determined to brush it until it shone and some more after.

Just like the rest of the keep, silence loomed between them, until the young girl broke it with another, even more soft-spoken question, “do you have any advice for me, Mother?”

The mother leant down to place a tender kiss against her daughter’s head, “I’ve raised you well. You are intelligent, courteous, dutiful, and gentle, everything a young lady should be. I have nothing more to teach you until you are a beautiful bride”

“Thank you, Mother, but you must have something to tell me,” the maiden insisted, and the mother could not help a light laugh. She placed the brush on the vanity and reached with her now free hand to cup her daughter’s cheek, gently coaxing her to look into her eyes.

“Sansa, dear, you are a beautiful and perfect young lady. Come the morrow, you will be heading South, and I am sure you will make many heads turn. You have only to take care of your father and enjoy your life in King’s Landing. I am sure it won’t be long until a young handsome knight asks your father for your hand in marriage. Do not fret”

The girl’s bottom lip quivered and she jumped into her mother’s arms, “thank you, Mother. I’ll miss you most when I’m in King’s Landing”

“And I’ll miss you too, Sansa”

A moment passed and the mother moved to pull herself from her daughter’s embrace, only to find she was unable to do so. She smiled gently and looked down to her daughter’s slightly trembling expression, “Sansa, my darling, would you like to spend the night with me?”

A protest formed on the young lady’s lips. It was not proper, not even little babes slept with their lady mothers, yet her own lady mother quieted her and reassured her. She was free to do so tonight should she want it. She could not stop herself from pulling her mother for another embrace then. She thinks she might not be the only one who needed it.

Back in the solar, the young lord wrote for his own mother, ignoring his brother’s disappointed face.

* * *

“I’ve got to say, Jaime, it really is a surprise that Father places such importance on me. For some time I thought he would rather I die in there”

“You ought not speak that way in front of others, Tyrion,” the older brother spoke as he lead the way to his tent, “you know Father has ears everywhere”

“And?” the younger asked, face scrunching in confusion, “since when have you started heeding Father’s orders? What happened, Jaime?”

Tyrion watched as his brother poured himself some wine before flopping down on his bed. He waited as Jaime took a long sip of his drink before finally speaking, “Renly Baratheon marches with Tyrell forces supporting him. Little Tommen’s inheritance does not include a peaceful realm, but it does include his father standing right next to him”

“And you’re worried he’ll put another bastard in our sister? Is that it? I thought you moved on from our sister, Jaime. Honestly, there are so many better options for you”

“Don’t mock me, Tyrion” Jaime sighed, only for his younger brother to speak again, “I am not mocking you. I am trying to show concern. I meant it when I said you could do much better. Any fair maiden would gladly give herself to...”

“I don’t want to fuck Cersei! She’s my sister and I care for her, but I don’t want to fuck her!” Jaime exclaimed, lowering his voice when he noticed the way Tyrion raised an eyebrow, “we did what we have to do to protect her from the oaf who ended up getting Joffrey killed. The problem is not Cersei, the problem is Ned Stark. He’ll want my head now that I’ve marched with Father, or worse, he’ll send me to the Wall”

“You underestimate his affection for our sister,” Tyrion chuckled, pouring himself a cup of wine.

“What?” Jaime scrunched his eyebrows.

“You. Underestimate. Ned. Stark’s. Affection. For. Our. Sister,” repeated Tyrion, emphasizing every word, “he will remove you from the King’s Guard, aye, but he will not execute you or send you to the Wall. Our sister would not allow it, maybe for me, but not for you, and Ned Stark would do anything Cersei asks of him. She murdered his closest friend, the King, and got away with barely a reprimand from Stark. Now that that’s covered, you might want to inform your men to start preparing to march. Father would not allow you to laze about here now that I’ve escaped that wretched Lysa’s hold”

Jaime smiled slightly, feeling better after talking with his brother, although it took him a moment of silence to finally see the signs of exhaustion on the dwarf, “I’ll call for one of the servants to prepare a tent for you”

“It would be much appreciated, brother”

* * *

“Cersei”

The golden queen did not turn from her place staring outside the window. Instead, she let her shoulders sag and whispered a solemn, “Ned”

Ned walked towards her, his eyes trained on her. He frowned and turned to the view, leaning his elbows on the windowsill and keeping his weight on his good leg. Cersei did not look at him still, but her voice broke what little silence and peace could be afforded the Queen and the Protector of the Realm.

“You still struggle to walk”

Ned sighed, “aye, the maester says I will never walk properly, but I will be able to move more easily with the help of a cane”

“I apologize for what Jaime did to you”

“You do not feel much remorse, and I do not hold you to blame for it. It is your brother’s fault, not yours. Cersei, look at me,” Ned paused his speech, moving to gently make her emerald eyes stare into his own equally miserable ones, “I need to know, Cersei. I need to know what you are thinking about. I need to know what has you so concerned that you won’t feed. Why have you been so distant lately? I’ve barely seen you since the night Robb’s letter arrived. Tommen asks for you every night. He says he hasn’t seen you for the past sennight”

Cersei pushed out of his embrace, watching the people out the window once again, “do you know, Ned, that it has only been a moon and a fortnight since we’ve arrived at King’s Landing? Do you know how many events have happened since then? I had to watch as you and Robb suffered for offending Robert and my Father. I was hit. My son was killed because of a buffoon. His sworn shield is now mine own to serve as a constant reminder of what I lost. You punished me for slaying the buffoon by sending my eldest child away. My twin acted foolishly and now he’s out there paying for it. The buffoon’s brother now marches against my son’s claim to the throne. Now my youngest suffers of night terrors and my eldest is marching off to war. Excuse me if I am distant, Ned, but I believe I am entitled to be so”

Before Ned could do or say anything, Cersei was already gone, leaving him behind with a dumbstruck expression on his face. He sighed and found a nearby seat, slumping down on it and groaning as his leg gave out from under him. He remained in the very same room for the better part of the day, reflecting over her words and considering ways to support her during her suffering.

It was only much later, when the sun had already set, that his contemplation was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and a gentle voice calling “Father?”

“Come in, Bran. What is it?” Ned asked, voice a little strained.

“Jon is on his way South, he’ll be here soon enough,” Bran started as he sat in front of his father.

“Aye, he has left Winterfell with Robb on the morn,” Ned studied the boy. Bran was leading up to something, he had knowledge Ned did not know still, but he would drag it out of the boy.

“Jon cannot remain here. His place is in the North, but it is well that he is coming, because he can take me back to Winterfell then,” Bran, in turn, examined his father, searching for a reaction to his words.

“Did you have another dream, Bran? Is that why you want to go back North? What about your place as Ser Barristan’s squire? Do you not want to be a knight anymore?”

“I do want to be a knight still, but there will be time for that later. I had a dream, Father, and Jon and I were Ghost and Summer and we were north… north of the Wall. If I must, I’ll continue my training in Winterfell until it is time to make the journey north, but I must go back to Winterfell. Please, Father, allow me to go back”

Ned watched as his son’s face contorted with anxiety and he could not help but think that this was one thing he could fix. He could not take away Cersei’s pain or Tommen’s fear or Robb’s anger, but he could take away Bran’s angst.

“I’ll allow it, Bran. As soon as Jon and Sansa arrive here and Jon is well rested, he’ll take you back to Winterfell. But you must promise me that you will continue training in at least one weapon until you leave, and you will not be venturing north of the Wall by yourself. I want you protected and capable when you follow your destiny”

Ned sighed as he watched how Bran’s smile did not quite reach his eyes. He wondered if what he was doing was the right thing, but he knew wholeheartedly that Bran’s and Tommen’s dreams were not only the overactive imaginations of children. There was more to it and Bran would need to follow his destiny to understand it. It was the gods’ will.

“One more thing, Father,” Bran spoke, “Sansa’s match, he’s closer than you think, but you must allow her to find him”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you might have noticed that this story is part of a collection now. I don't know when and how easily I'll be continuing this work so I've decided to publish its epilogue and all the little bits and pieces I've managed to write in separate works to make sure it doesn't ruin the flow of Keep Me Deceived but give it closure if I don't manage to continue it. The epilogue still needs a bit of editing but I think I'll be able to publish it soon. For now, much thanks and appreciation for your understanding,  
> Polaris


	14. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's my birthday today, and I've managed to publish a new chapter here, another on TDR, and publish the epilogue, so I'll consider this a win and a successful day. You'll notice that I'm basically running with the events of the war, and it's because I've said before, I really don't care much for war and don't know what to write about it, but once this war is over, things will start slowing down again and we can go back to exploring the relationships of the characters.

Robb had been marching for a sennight. He had received letters informing him that both his true uncle and his supposed uncle were marching. Edmure Tully’s bannermen were assembling in Riverrun, and Jamie Lannister’s forces had started their march back to King’s Landing, on the advice of Tyrion Lannister that there must be an army present there to protect the young King. They had, in record speed, arrived at Moat Cailin, and were supposed to combine with the Tully forces in Riverrun before continuing with them to meet the Tyrell forces in battle. His grandfather, after having secured a deal with Edmure for safe passing, had arrived at Riverrun, and was set to continue on his way to Golden Tooth then march with the Leffords to Clegane’s Keep, where the rest of the Lannister bannermen had set up camp. Stannis Baratheon had also called his men to arms, meeting with them in Stokeworth, and preparing to march.

It was decided that Tywin would march from the west, Edmure and Robb from the north, and Stannis from the east, which would push the Tyrell and Baratheon of Storm’s End forces back, and surround them. Their enemy’s only hope then would be the Martells, but they were unlikely to march for any Baratheon.

Robb stared solemnly at his brother. Jon was set to leave with Sansa. They were meant to travel to White Harbour while Robb marches to war.

“This is where we separate, brother” Robb spoke quietly.

“Take care, Robb. Your men do not trust you still. I’ve heard them talking. They are loyal to you only because of their vows and their loyalty to Father,” Jon warned, thinking back to the lords’ secret conversation that he had stumbled into and eavesdropped on. Ned would have disapproved had he known, but Ned didn’t know and Jon had to let his brother know what was said to protect him.

“I know, Jon. There is time still to gain their trust, and I have Theon and Gendry with me, they’ll protect me”

Jon frowned, thinking back to Theon’s proposal, “Robb, don’t send Theon back to the Greyjoys. Remember, Theon is not Father’s ward because Lord Greyjoy and Father are friends. Theon is with us because Father went to war against his family. They are not our allies. You already have Lord Tywin’s and Lord Edmure’s support. That’s enough”

Robb gave him a dishonest smile, “I’ll think about it”

He had every intention to send Theon to Pyke to secure the Greyjoy platoons for him. Robb did not need them, but he had developed a sense of greed. He wanted more men, and he wanted a larger army.

A sennight later, Robb arrived at the Twins, and, much to his annoyance, had discovered that the Freys had declared themselves separate of their liege lord and refused to either march in the war or allow Robb Stark’s forces to pass through. It had taken two nights for him and his lords to finally come to an agreement with Walder Frey: a Frey girl as Lady Stark, in exchange for the Freys’ men. Robb had reluctantly agreed, thinking back on both his public betrothal to Princess Myrcella and his secret betrothal to Janei Lannister, before coming to the conclusion that no one would blame him for his decision and Lord Tywin would just find another heir.

The night of his wedding, Robb had silently cursed his false uncle for his weakness and inability to control his men. He soon discovered, though, that Lord Edmure was not the only foolish lord, as he burned the bodies of Roose Bolton, most of Bolton’s bannermen, and many of his own men while Lord Karstark publicly preached about his failure as a lord and war strategist. Robb had forced himself to remain calm and carry on, easily enough silencing Lord Karstark with promises of rewards when the war was over.

He had quickly understood Renly’s surprisingly good strategy, the youngest Baratheon brother had promised both Lords Frey and Bolton power over their respective home kingdoms in return for ending the Starks and Tullys. The bad news did not end there, as Robb received a letter informing him that Harrenhall was taken by Renly’s forces and that they had managed to surround Riverrun. Edmure’s army was not fully defeated but had not succeeded in fighting back against their opponents. Thankfully, Lord Tywin had already left Riverrun and even arrived at Golden Tooth. As far as he knew, Lord Tywin had changed his strategy when he got word of what happened in the Riverlands: half of the Lannister army was to join him as they marched to Riverrun, protecting the Lannisters’ eastern borders, while the other half marched south with Lord Kevan at its head to both protect the border and tear through the soldiers there.

It had not been much longer then for Robb’s bannermen to see true war and battles, as they reached Riverrun and swiftly annihilated the Tyrell forces’ siege there before Tywin’s men even arrived. They marched together with Lannisters and Tullys, winning battle after battle as they neared Harrenhall. The continuous success had Robb regain his men’s trust and their spirits lifted, but meeting his grandfather again was not pleasant, especially after the result of his wedding, now known as the Red Wedding, became known.

Of course, his success could not remain unbroken for long, and a few nights after they had taken back Harrenhall, a raven arrived from Winterfell. The Greyjoys had declared war against the North, and Theon Greyjoy had seized Winterfell and executed every remaining Stark there. Robb had raged in the forest and ruined his sword as he hit a tree with it. His bannermen had let him be, opting to give him a chance to release his frustration as they knew that he had suffered much. The news had come just after it was known that Renly Baratheon and his forces had managed to seize King’s Landing. Jamie Lannister’s force had been in the city for only a few days when the attack happened, and they were not enough to stop the Tyrell army. Now, Ser Jamie was a prisoner of Renly’s. It seemed Renly’s plans were to take King’s Landing immediately, killing King Tommen and thus leaving the enemy forces with no one to declare for but Stannis, who he knew was not supported by the Lannisters.

Robb had been extremely anxious when he’d known of the state of King’s Landing. The inability to communicate with his father had left him in a position where he could not know the state of seven of his family members, and that left him on edge. Still, he knew that no matter what was happening in the South, Robb had to return to Winterfell and destroy the Ironborn. It had taken a few more days of deep negotiation until Tywin had come up with a suitable solution. It was quickly put to action and Tywin sent ravens, receiving letters of reply soon after. The moment the letters arrived, the soldiers prepared to march again. Robb would march back to Winterfell, Edmure and Tywin would march from the north, Stannis would march from the east, and Kevan would march from the west, thus ensuring that the Tyrells and Renly were exhausted and occupied with them, only for their last allies to surprise attack from the south and bring their victory. The Martells had joined the war, and the price was the Princess’ hand in marriage.

* * *

The first time Sansa Stark Laid eyes on Sandor Clegane, he had been only the Hound, Prince Joffrey’s sworn shield. She had been too enamoured with the prince then to pay much attention to his living shadow. The second time Sansa Stark saw Sandor Clegane, he was still only the Hound, except this time he was the Queen Mother’s sworn shield instead of the late prince and they were standing on the shore of King’s Landing with hundreds of other people and Sansa couldn’t really care about him when she was seeing her father and brother for the first time in months. She could still remember that day clearly.

It had been a fortnight after they had left Robb’s army. Everything had already seemed wrong from the moment they arrived and a warship was waiting close by. Sansa could see the unease on Jon’s face as he called the Northern soldiers to head to the shore, where not only was Ned Stark waiting, but also the queen mother, the princess, and the young king.

Sansa had greeted her father politely, not wanting to appear anything less than the perfect lady in front of the queen and her father’s bannermen, only to have her father limp towards her and pull her and Jon into a short hug before instructing them to head back to the ship. Jon had tried to refuse, but Ned had spoken with words that carried both worry and urgency.

“The Tyrell and Baratheon forces are only days away from reaching King’s Landing. Our allies will not reach us soon enough. The only army we currently have is Jamie Lannister’s, and they’ve just come back from another conflict. They will not be able to protect us. Jon, listen to me, I need you to take both Sansa and Bran and protect them. I need you to protect your younger siblings”

Ned had whispered something then in Jon’s ear, but Sansa had not heard it, she’d only seen Jon’s widening eyes and gulped nervously, waiting for her father to address them both again.

“You will be headed towards Dragonstone, Lord Stannis has left his lady wife and daughter there. You are to stay with them until I send word for you. The King, Princess Myrcella, the Kingsguard, and some other soldiers will be joining you. Take good care of them”

Sansa’s eyes had travelled to the queen mother, who was speaking quietly with the king and wiping his tears. She could not help wishing her own mother was with her then as she listened to Jon argue with father that he should at least keep some men with him to protect him, especially with his limp. Sansa agreed nervously, at last contributing to the conversation with a quiet plea for her father to better protect himself. Ned finally relented then, settling on sending seventy-five men back with them.

Sansa had watched then as everyone prepared to leave again, only pausing to stock up the ship. She’d watched as Ned too said a few words of goodbye to the king and as the child nodded his head with as much determination as he could muster. She’d listened as Ned asked the queen if she was sure she didn’t want to leave as well, only for the queen’s replying hiss to come as peculiar to Sansa.

“I am not leaving, Ned, especially not without you. I am the queen, and I will not kneel to Renly Baratheon. We shall face him together”

The queen had sent the Hound with them, to guard Princess Myrcella while the Kingsguard protected the king.

Now, many days later, Sansa had seen Sandor Clegane many times, having spent most of her time with Shireen and Myrcella. Sansa had still not given much thought to the Hound outside polite greetings, having been preoccupied with her blooming friendship with the princess, but it was not the princess who comforted her when Sansa discovered what happened to her childhood home and her family there. Jon had been too concerned with Bran and she had left in a rush, only to quite literally walk into the Hound. He was on the verge of snarling at her when he noticed her tears and forced himself to quiet as he pulled her to a secluded room and wiped her tears with a cloth of his before handing it to her and silently standing guard outside the door until she had finished weeping. That was the night Sansa uncovered another side to Sandor Clegane.

Now, she was determined to find out more about the so called heartless man.


	15. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I'm doing multiple POVs of the previous chapter's events, so... here goes...

It had only been a moon now since Robb had left Winterfell in her care, and Catelyn could not even fathom how quickly her life had been turned on its heel.

At first, nothing had changed save for the lack of men in the North and her daughter’s new dueling lessons. Arya had also seemed to become quick friends with the new baker boy, Hot Pie. Catelyn had not liked it one bit, neither the way the boy encouraged Arya in her lessons, nor how often the girl was practicing. Soon, however, the Master at arms had reported to her that Arya had shown great prowess, very similar to that of both Robb Stark and Jon Snow, and that the young girl could one day surpass them. Catelyn could not stop her pride then at the fact that her daughter was just as, and possibly more, talented than Ned’s bastards. She did not yet know how skilled Bran would be since the boy was away, but at least her daughters were better than their halfbrothers.

A sennight after the Northern bannermen had marched, Catelyn received the first and only letter that would be sent to her from the frontiers. Her eldest daughter, sweet Sansa, had written to her that she and Jon Snow had separated from the leading army, boarding a ship to King’s Landing. Sansa did not know anything of Robb’s plans and had not mentioned him at all. Other than that, news of the war reached them at a terribly slow pace, considering that Robb felt no need to send letters north while all his lords stood next to him. And so another sennight passed before they were to hear anything. Only, a few days after the fortnight mark of the day Robb left, news finally reached them.

Catelyn was not a warrior, nor a strategist, nor had she seen true war before her eyes. The closest Catelyn had ever been to war was waving her father and husband off as they left to take down a mad tyrant. Catelyn was not prepared, then, when a messenger from Moat Cailin informed them that the fort had fallen to Greyjoy bannermen. She gathered with both Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik Cassel to come to a decision on what to do. Their debates did not take long, and while Catelyn had not liked to abandon Winterfell one bit, she knew and understood as well as everyone else that the safety of both Rickon and Arya was the most important. Robb could very well die in battle and Bran’s safety relied on the Tyrell army not reaching the capitol. Rickon could not be lost. And so, that very night, after all the servants had gone to sleep, Catelyn gathered in her arms a sleeping Rickon, dressing him in the warmest clothes he had and instructing Arya to do the same. They made their way silently to the stables, where only Osha, Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin waited for them.

They loaded three horses with as many bags as they could, all containing food. Clothes were not of import under their current conditions. They slunk to the edge of Winterfell and quickly revised their plans before Ser Rodrik helped her onto her horse and passed the still sleeping Rickon to her. Out of the corner of her eye, Catelyn watched as Osha mounted her own horse and settled a solemn Arya in front of her. Maester Luwin mounted the last horse and turned to her with a quiet nod.

“Don’t worry, they will not reach you where you are headed. I’ll do my best to protect Winterfell from the Ironborn, Lady Stark”

Those were the last words Ser Rodrik Cassel would ever speak to a Stark, for although Catelyn would not know until much later, Ser Rodrik would be killed only days later as what few remaining men he’d gathered to protect the seat of House Stark would meet the Ironborn in a battle they had no hope of winning.

It was a gruesome journey to the Wall, lasting just shy of six nights, and Catelyn had known right away that she could not have made it without Osha and Luwin’s expertise. The both of them had refused to start a fire, promising that starting one was as good as announcing to the Ironborn their location. Luwin had initially felt some guilt over breaking his vow to serve the Lord of Winterfell no matter what his last name should be, but had quickly surmised that his loyalty to house Stark was more valuable to him. Meanwhile, Osha’s only reservation was the ‘White Walkers’ in the north. Catelyn could care less about the tales that seemed to spring to life from Old Nan’s stories, the protection of her young the most important thing to her.

It was only when they finally arrived at Castle Black and were greeted by a reluctant Lord Commander Jeor Mormont that Catelyn could finally breath again. Poor Rickon was shivering against her chest and Arya had barely said a few words throughout their journey. They were all tired and in danger and it took everything in them to reach that point. Catelyn wanted to scream then when Jeor Mormont would not grant them immediate access to safety, reminding her that the Night’s Watch served no king. It was only after much negotiation that the Lord Commander agreed to leave them in two empty chambers, one for Osha, Catelyn, and her children, and one for Luwin, after they had promised that they would be able to manage on their own without destroying anything. The night after, not a single brother of the Night’s Watch remained, all having gone north of the Wall.

Catelyn could not keep her sobs to herself then, as she quickly understood that she was once again practically on her own to protect her children.

* * *

Tommen was only eight. He wasn’t even close to his ninth name day. He was only a boy. And still Lord Stark insisted he was old enough to spend most of his days attending lessons with Maesters, his Master at Arms, and Lord Stark himself when he was free enough to have him. Tommen wished he could say he was exhausted, but Mother had gently reminded him that he was the King, and soon enough he’d be ruling without a regent, and that’s why he had to attend to so many lessons. Mother had said that Joffrey had had to fulfil his duties too before, and that now it was his turn, but Tommen knew it was a lie. Joffrey had never attended too many lessons. Joffrey had done whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Tommen knew it was so. He knew it because he had been at the end of Joffrey’s torments often enough. He’d always cried to Mother about it, and she’d always held him tightly and wiped his tears away. Mother would promise to speak to Joffrey, but Joffrey still tormented him.

Tommen wished he could be a little more like Joffrey, not the cruel side of him, but his ability to do whatever he wanted. Tommen would make everyone leave him alone with his cats. He’d only let Myrcella and Bran be with him, and he’d have every sweet he wanted and no more lessons and only playtime with his cats. He knew though that Lord Stark would say that that would make him a bad king. Good Kings don’t use their powers to do what they want. Good Kings use their powers to help their people. Tommen wanted to help, he did, he just didn’t want to be so restless. It was all so frustrating! And it was only a sennight since the war Uncle Renly started!

Tommen sighed as he once again fell on his bum. Syrio had not been easy on him just because he was king. In fact, Syrio had even laughed and told him that that was just the reason why he would never go easy on him. Kings must be able to protect themselves and hold their own in war. Tommen watched as Bran took his turn with Syrio. Ever since he became king, he wasn’t able to spend as much time with Bran as before. Tommen spent most of his time in his lessons, and Bran in his, and then Tommen had to attend to his kingly duties while Bran attended to his squire duties.

Still, at night, Tommen would sneak into Bran’s room and Bran would tell him stories that Old Nan had told him. Tommen hated to admit it, but he was terrified of going to sleep now. He’d always have dreams of fires falling from the skies and Lord Stark screaming as he held Mother with bloody hands. Tommen hated it. He hated it so much. And so he decided firmly that he’d watch Mother and Lord Stark whenever he could just to make sure they were alright. As the days passed, though, Tommen had observed Mother and Lord Stark act in the most peculiar way.

At first, Tommen had thought nothing of the way Mother and Lord Stark spent so much time together. Then he started to notice that no other lords of the Small Council spent as much time together as Mother and Lord Stark. During the first sennight after Robb left, Mother and Lord Stark would always have grim expressions when they were speaking. Tommen had even noticed that Mother was always more upset than usual after having a conversation with Lord Stark.

Tommen could not recall when exactly that changed, but it was probably because the change had come about gradually. He could recall that during the second sennight after Robb left, Mother would not be as upset as before if she met Lord Stark. Tommen figured Lord Stark must have done something different to make Mother feel better when speaking to him. Perhaps Lord Stark had kissed Mother. Tommen knew Mother loved kisses, she would always smile brightly when he kissed her.

Then, one night, as Tommen was sneaking back to his chambers after visiting Bran, he’d stumbled upon Mother and Lord Stark. She had been sobbing hysterically and Tommen had wanted to join her and cry just because she was crying. A chance look showed him Lord Stark comforting Mother, who was huddled on his lap, a tormented impression on his face. Just the sight of Mother’s sorrow was enough to make Tommen’s lips wobble, but he quickly remembered that he was not a little boy anymore. He was a man and a King now, and tears were only for women and babes. With that, he hurriedly made his way back to his chambers lest he be caught.

After that night, Tommen noticed that Mother and Lord Stark were behaving much differently. They were more comfortable around each other and did not sport scowls after meeting the other. Tommen did not have much time to observe them though because Uncle Jaime had come back with Uncle Tyrion, and a few days later, they were all stood on the port as Jon Snow and Lady Sansa docked.

Tommen did not know much of the matters of war yet, but he understood well enough this part. Mother and Lord Stark were sending him away to protect him, because he was the king. Tommen hated this too. He hated it so much he couldn’t stop his tears as he said his goodbyes to his mother. She wiped his tears gently and promised him that she loved him, and Tommen hated that he was leaving her behind.

Then Lord Stark approached him for a farewell of their own. Lord Stark reminded him that he must be strong, that he was a man now, not a child. Tommen had nodded his head determinedly even though he did not feel like he was a man yet. He wanted Lord Stark to be proud of him, which is why when Lord Stark had voiced that very notion and told him that he loved him, Tommen could not do anything but feel even more anger towards Uncle Renly for his war.

Tommen had never felt connected to his house’s words. Ours is the Fury. He was a calm boy and the words left a bad taste in his mouth. Mother’s house’s words did not fit him either. Hear Me Roar. He was too quiet for those words. He thought to the words of House Stark. Winter Is Coming. He did not know if they were a good fit for him either. But in that moment, as Tommen watched Mother’s slowly receding figure, Tommen wished he could roar and make Uncle Renly feel his fury by bringing winter to him.

All for a war and a throne Tommen had never even wished for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor baby Tommen... He just wants to be left in peace and these adults throw his life into a jam.  
> Tbh, I just have a lot of feels for Tommen, both in the fic and the show. He's just a baby and I love him so much...  
> Also, I feel like if Catelyn was at Winterfell when Theon attacked the North, they'd have acted differently. Like someone might have realized that there were barely any men to protect them and they needed to yeet themselves out of Winterfell... idk


	16. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robb is an impulsive angry/angsty teen TM. I mean, he was sort of impulsive on the show, I just made him Lannister!Impulsive rather than Honor!Impulsive.

Robb Stark’s first mistake was sending Theon Greyjoy to retrieve the Iron Born, a mistake he had paid for with his men and his brother’s and sister’s lives. Meeting Theon on the battlefield had brought its own sort of satisfaction for that.

It’d taken only a few days to reach Moat Cailin, where he’d met the forces of one Yara Greyjoy. Admittedly, the lady had put up a great fight, but this was his home, his lands, his ancestors’ kingdom, and no Greyjoy was going to take that from him. Moat Cailin was his again within a night.

He’d met Yara Greyjoy on the field, words of honour ringing in his head with his father’s voice, and he’d given her the choice to retreat and bend the knee to King Tommen. She’d said something about “paying the iron price” and that was all Robb needed. Yara Greyjoy met her god on his sword.

What remained of the Ironborn was few, and he’d considered executing them all, but his father’s voice finally won in his mind. The small folk should not bear the punishment for their liege lord’s actions. And so, he sent what little Ironborn remained with Yara Greyjoy’s body back to her father. Let him make of it what he will, for Robb would send him Theon’s body too soon enough.

And he did, a fortnight later.

If only it were the only treachery he would suffer.

Robb Stark’s second mistake was not to pay more attention to his bannermen and the Tully bannermen, which had cost him the respect of his men, a useless marriage to a woman he could not stand the sight of (he expects his grandfather to kill her, for he had said as much when they had spoken about it, but no matter how much Robb’s disdain for the man went, his hatred for Roslin Frey went deeper), and the lives of some of his men.

His wedding was a disaster from start to finish. Walder Frey had insisted on making all the arrangements, and Robb had felt uneasy about it. He’d asked for a small wedding, but Walder Frey had not heeded his words. In return, when Walder Frey demanded Grey Wind remain caged outside, Robb would not listen to him. He might only be the acting Lord of Winterfell, but he was also Ned Stark and Cersei Lannister’s son and the Seven be damned he would have what he wanted at his wedding. Grey Wind guarded the doors during the feast.

The day before his wedding, memories of King’s Landing and the death of the Fat King would not leave his mind. The ring of the bells haunted him, the bells that rung after his mother had her husband poisoned in his own bed, in his own castle, where he was supposed to be safe.

Robb was not in his own bed, in his own castle. Robb was laying on a bed in an opportunistic enemy’s stronghold. How likely would it be for Walder Frey to poison him? Very much. To the Seven Hells with Guest Right. Neither the laws of men nor the laws of gods had ever commanded the actions of men who thought themselves invincible.

The morn of his wedding day, Robb gathered all his lords and his bannermen in the fields. He demanded they keep swords with them at all times and forbid them from drinking at his wedding feast, with threat of treason for any who did. His bannermen had been most upset, until the cries of battle rung right after the consummation of his marriage was completed. Robb had dressed hurriedly and reached for his sword, ordering the Frey girl to open the door.

As expected, the Frey girl was pulled outside to safety by one of her numerous brothers as another charged into the chambers. It did not matter, the Frey man had not been trained by Ser Rodrik Cassel, and the heavy armour he wore slowed him down. Robb had almost scoffed when he’d fought the attempt at his life. The Frey men were not skilled, and they, too, fell to his sword.

When he’d made it back to the hall and found his men nearing the end of a war with the Freys and the Boltons, he’d been furious. Taking Roose Bolton’s life had pleased him in a vengeful way.

The next day saw the beheading of every Frey man past boyhood. For a brief moment, he’d looked down the line of remaining women and children, and a song he’d heard Lannister men sing in King’s Landing echoed in his ears. He quickly shook his head to clear it. There will not be another “Rains of Castamere”, at least not because of him.

And still that was not the end of the treachery he was to challenge.

Robb Stark’s third mistake, and he intended for it to be his last, was not taking Roose Bolton’s bastard son, Ramsay Snow, into consideration when he took the traitor’s life. Now, Ramsay Snow claims to have been legitimised by his father and marches against Robb, apparently seeking to “take the North as vengeance for his father”.

It seemed just then that Robb would indeed cause the extinction of a noble family.

* * *

Cersei hated him. She hated him so much. It was his arrival in the South that had resulted in her life falling to ruins. Ned had no business being Hand of the King. She’d known it and she’d still wanted him with her. Oh how she hated herself for it. Hated herself for loving him. Hated herself for trusting him. Hated herself for allowing him to take Robb away. Robb... her brilliant Robb... far away in the North...

How could she ever hate Ned when he’d given her half of her children? How could she hate him when he’d given her mighty Robb and sweet Tommen? How could she hate him when he’d loved her more than any other to walk the realm? How could she hate him when he’d gladly sacrifice all that he is for her?

Oh how she loved him...

Oh how frustrating it was...

He was not meant for this. He was never meant for this. Her loving Ned was an honourable fool, and he’d get them all killed if she didn’t watch out for him. Her lover was true in all he did, and she couldn’t help but love him for it, no matter how much it frustrated her. She still remembered what it felt like to have him. His kisses filled her with warmth and his touch left a trail of fire on her skin. Oh, how pleasantly surprised she had been to discover that the cold Northman was a most passionate lover.

She had been his first and he’d taken her maidenhead. She had thought her maidenhead belonged to Jaime back then, and how grateful she was that she hadn’t given it to him. She knew, the moment Ned claimed it, that it was him and only him who deserved to have it, and it was Ned and only Ned who would ever appreciate it the way he did.

She did not know if Robb was conceived that time or in the subsequent days Ned had spent in her bed, but she’d found out soon after that she would make Ned Stark a father. The news of her pregnancy had not been received well by her family. Jaime had felt betrayed, Tyrion had been too young to fully understand what it meant, and Father had been absolutely furious. He had demanded she drink Moon Tea, but Cersei could not bring herself to get rid of her child, and she’d argued bravely against her father for the first time, threatening to announce to all the noble courts her adultery. Finally, Tywin had reluctantly agreed to let her birth her son if she were to give him up to Ned.

When Ned had arrived to take Robb away, he was completely alone. She’d fallen completely and utterly in love all over again when he’d held their son against his chest in a most delicate manner and whispered quietly to the sleeping babe how much he loved him and how he’d take care of him. Cersei had watched her two men with a mixture of dread and adoration.

Ned had kissed her with a passion that showed exactly how grateful he was for Robb, and then he’d spent two nights at Casterly Rock. Upon his return to Winterfell, her father had insisted on one Lannister bannerman and a nursemaid of theirs for Robb. Ned had felt slightly uncomfortable but ultimately agreed for Robb’s safety. Cersei knew, however. She knew that the moment the soldier and wet nurse made it back on Westerland soil, they would be killed just like the maester who had birthed Robb. Tywin would make sure no one ever knew of Robb’s true parentage.

She had been thankful then for Ned’s honourable nature blinding him from her father’s schemes, but now it was what she hated (and begrudgingly still loved) the most.

She’d had to flush out all the traitors while Tyrion and his new lowborn friend took care of the thieves, all without Ned knowing. She still couldn’t decide if surviving was worth working with her imp brother. Meanwhile, she also had Wild Fyre produced, for no matter how much Ned tried, the men of King’s Landing were not prepared for war, not with half of the Tyrell army.

When the time came, Jaime’s force had put up as strong a fight as they could, but they were already exhausted from another march and their numbers were nowhere near those of the waiting army. Jaime had lead his men bravely, but Jaime was no leader. Ned had been the strategist. He was a skilled one, that Cersei knew, for he could not have won the war against Rhaegar if he were not. But she and Tyrion, the pest who had discovered her Wild Fyre somehow, were the true puppet masters.

She had manipulated Ned into a plan that was just right for her to not reveal the Wild Fyre until the day of the battle. Ned could never have known of her plans before, for his seven damnable honour would have demanded they stop.

She’d also insisted on Ned not joining the battle, and her honourable fool had protested, but she’d firmly forbidden him. War was no game and he was a cripple now, whether he liked it or not, and he’d promised her that he would not leave her and that they would raise Tommen together. He was not going to get himself killed in a battle he had no claim to be in.

Ned had conceded only after a ferocious argument between the two of them, deciding to remain behind the walls of the Red Keep while Jaime lead the vanguard outside. Jaime’s forces had lost, and it had cost them an army and her brother’s freedom.

To say that Ned had not been pleased with the events of the battle was an understatement. He still refused to speak to her outside of their duties. Cersei refused to feel much guilt though, because she had saved them for the time being, and Ned would come to realise that.

For now, Jaime was a prisoner. And they were under siege. And all her babies were so far away. And Ned was trying to prepare the useless City Guard. And SHE WAS STUCK WITH THE IMP!

All they could do was wait for her father and Robb.

She considered the possibility of them not arriving soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine being under siege, being in that stressful situation, so close to death, you'd start thinking back in a jumbled mess on your life and all the opportunities missed. I don't know, maybe that's just me. Anyways, Cersei has a LOT of emotions and she doesn't know how to deal with them.


End file.
